A Change in Plans
by h0tbread
Summary: Christine's out sick, and Meg Giry finds herself placed in the lead role. When she's taken hostage by the Phantom, plans begin to fall apart, futures are redrawn, and a tragedy may be rewritten. But the wrong choice could lead to disaster. Erik/Meg
1. Chapter 1

**Change of Plans**

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_**Chapter One**_

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"Meg, I can't come," Christine rasped to me. I frowned sadly.

"You have to! Tonight's the first show! Everyone knows you lead the whole chorus, well, at least us chorus-girls know," I told her. She frowned, her curly hair messy and tangled from lying in bed.

We were in the room Mum and I shared. Christine lay in my bed, since we couldn't leave her in her dressing room with such a fever! I was still in my normal dress and ballet slippers that I practiced dancing in, instead of the real deal. Those were still in my dressing room, where I SHOULD be right now.

Christine rolled her eyes. "Meg, do you hear me? If I can barely talk, I much less can't sing. And with my weak muscles, you expect me to dance? You must be insane, Meg Giry!" She smiled but I could hear the disapointment in her voice.

"MEG," I heard behind me and I bit my lip. Caught! I turned around and saw Mum standing behind me. I let out a sighing rasberry and tried to grin. Pack of twenty raging Carlottas? Bring it on! My angry Mum? HIDE IN FEAR!

"Meg Giry, what are you doing here," She said, not really as a question, but more of a statement. She can do that with a totally blank face. I was considerably jealous. I brushed some of my blond hair out of my face.

"Well, Mum, I was talking to Christine about practice, because it's dress rehersal-"

"Yes, it is. And where should the ballerinas be at this momet?" Mum interupted.

"I was just tell-"

"In the dressing room. Go, Meg. Do not worry about Christine. I will take care of her," My Mum comanded. I frowned and muttered under my breath, giving Christine a small smile. She smiled back.

"Good luck," She mouthed. I stepped one foot out the door and suddenly I heard Mum behind me again. "Oh, and Meg?"

I spun around. "Yes, Mum?" She looked at me with her tight lips.

"Today the new owners of the Opera Populaire come. Their names are Monsieur Firmin and André. I want you to welcome them and show them around the Opera. Answer all their questions like I might, Meg. Do you understand?" She told me. The new owners are coming today? I nodded to her firmly. Wonderful, I had to pretend to be helpful and alert like my Mum. But that's what acting is good for, right?

"Yes, Mum," I said to her and she nodded me goodbye. I stepped out the door again, but was interupted yet again.

"And Meg?" I heard my mother call. Goodness, how much can one girl do in one day? I turned to her face. Her normally strict face cracked a rare smile. "Good luck, Meg."

I grinned back and curtsied to her. Then I dashed down the hall, running to the dressing room where the rest of the ballerinas were already getting ready. I practiced my pointes on the way. I quickly burst into the dressing room, where I saw all the other girls getting ready. I rushed over to my costume, a slave looking one and quickly slipped out of my dress, changing into costume.

"Meg Giry, good to finally have you here!" I heard a familiar voice behind me. I cracked a grin. I turned, my blond hair whipping her face.

"Good day to you, Miss Jammes," I said with fake politeness. Cecile Jammes was a good friend of mine, and a fellow chorus member. Except that Christine was a fellow chorus AND dancer, with a wonderful voice. Cecile's voice wasn't exactly worth a pretty-penny, and I'd never say it to her face, but I could sing much better than her. Though I had nothing on Christine's. Cecile smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Enough with the formality, why in heaven's name are you late? Carlotta could kill all of us if we postpone the rehersal!" I sighed and slipped on my good ballet shoes as Cecile went behind me and started to brush out my hair.

"Christine's out sick, got a nasty fever!" I explained.

"For God's sake, today of all days?" Cecile exclaimed.

"Yes, and Mum's there taking care of her right now," I sighed. "I was trying to get Christine out of bed, but her voice was bad, and to walk may not have been possible, much less dance!"

"How dreadful! And she is such a wonderful dancer! Also brings up the Sapranos in the chorus, I don't think any of us could sing as good as her to save our lives!" Cecile chuckled. I rolled my eyes, but knew she was right.

"What about La Carlotta?" I said, with fake admiration and batted my eyelashes. Cecile whacked the back of my head with the brush. "Ow!"

"I didn't even hit you very hard, Meg! You're such a drama queen!" Cecile laughed. "Come on, we must do your makeup, and quickly!"

I rose up and followed Cecile quickly to the makeup mirror. I pirouetted my way to the mirror. "Show off," Cecile smiled. I grinned. I plopped down and quickly, Cecile slathered on something wet, then patted my face with something. After that she focused on my eyes. I kept them closed the whole time and it felt weird on my eyelids. She brushed something over my cheeks, then added lipstick at the end. I opened my eyes and smiled.

"Lovely, as always, Miss Jammes!" I complimented. I hopped out of the chair and we raced to the curtain where things were just beginning.

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_***Disclaimer* Aktress owns nothing but this clever idea of putting Meg in the spotlight :)**_

_**Please be nice! It's my first PhanFic! :3 Anyone who reviews gets a state of the art Phantom Mask! EEK!**_

**_Best Wishes, Aktress._**


	2. Chapter 2

**_I wanted to send a quick shout-out to uglystepsister, the ONLY person who commented! Really, people? But her review was really nice, and I'd like to thank her for it :) Anywho, please enjoy chapter two, and for the love of Phantom, PLEASE COMMENT!_**

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Chapter two**

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We quickly took our place with the other ballet/chorus members. They gave us a "Where on earth have you been?" look, but we quickly ignored it.

I saw our former owner talking with the new owners, those must have been Monsieurs André and Firmin. I wondered if I should go up and introduce myself, but I decided to not speak unless spoken to. I saw the conductor give me a glance and motioned to me. I looked at Cecile and she nodded. I bounded up to the conductor and nodded at him in hello.

"Little Meg, where is your mother?" He asked me. I cocked my head.

"She's at home, with Christine Daae. She is sick and needs rest. My Mum said for rehersal to go on as planned, and I may show the new Monsieurs around," I flashed him a grin. He was filled with stress as it was, he didn't need much more piled on him. He sighed and walked me over to the three men on center stage.

"Ah, Meg Giry! Where is the Madame?" The former owner asked. I'd never really caught his name before, so I just called him Monsieur.

"Madame Giry is at home with Miss Daee, she's dreadfully ill," Explained the conductor. My gaze slipped over to the cast. Carlotta looked rather ruffled and impatient to get started. Cecile and the other ballerinas were running through their dance one more time.

"Meg?" I heard someone say my name and I was brought back to reality. I turned to the men.

"Hm?" I asked innocently. The former owner looked sternly at me.

"Meg, I'd like you to answer these fellow's questions, alright?" He asked. I nodded. "Alright, let's show and Monsieurs André and Firmin what you can do!" He yelled to the dancers and singers. They took their positions as I shook hands.

"Hello, Monsieur André, hello, Monsieur Firmin. Welcome to the Opera Populaire, on account of my Mum, Madame Giry. Alas she cannot be here today, but I hope I am a fine replacement," I joked.

"An honor to meet you, Miss Giry," Firmin replied. André nodded my way, paying attention to what was happening onstage. I longed to be practicing up there too, but had to fulfill my tourguide duties.

I watched with the previous and current owners. The whole scene came to life onstage, and I watched all my friends dance by and smile. Onstage strutted Carlotta and my smile turned sour. What a way to ruin a dancer's day.

I felt Monsieur André flinch next to me as Carlotta sang out her loud and opera-filled voice. I may have flinched too, but I was so used to her voice that I was immune. "Is this your lead?" asked Firmin. I nodded, half sarrowfully. Unfortunatly, 'La Carlatta', being the richest woman in town, and could pay her way into the lead role, barely any talent needed.

Just then, I watched as a dancer accidentally stepped on Carlotta's dress train. I bit my lip. 'La Carlotta' would not be pleased. I watched her stumble, but not falling. And her face was red with embaressment and anger. She turned with drama in every motion, leaving 'for sure' this time. I saw all three owners run up and try to calm her.

I gave Cecile and sidelong glance. She bit her lip and was trying to calm down the girl who accidentally tripped up on Carlotta. I looked back over to the diva and the men. I couldn't hear much, except Carlotta, screaming her precious lungs out. "THEY STEP ON MY DRESS! AND I HATE MY HAT."

Cecile and I exchanged smiles. What a Prima-Dona! Eventually, they coaxed her to step back onto center stage. They took there place beside me again and I saw the dancers step back to give Carlotta her attention she didn't need. She began to sing her solo from Act 3 and the conductor cued in the orchestra.

"Think of me,think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while. Please promise me you'll try. When you find, that once again you long to take your heart back and be free, if you ever find a moment spare a thought…" But Carlotta was interupted by screaming from the ballet girls. I looked up and saw a giant backdrop about to crash to the ground. My mouth hung open in horror.

"Carlotta! Look out!" I screamed. Fortunatly for her, I screamed just in time for her to move as it crashed down onto the stage. Nonetheless, it had given all of us a huge scare. I rushed over to the lead singer. Annoying or not, her life had just been in danger!

"Are you alright?" I fretted. She brushed me aside.

"DO NOT TOUCH ME!" She screeched. "I QUIT!" She stormed off. I looked at her go off in a huff and everyone watched in disbelief as well.

"Well, if you two need me, I'll be in Australia," Said the former owner, tipping his hat, and going off quickly. André and Firmin exchanged terrified glances. Just then, I saw a note flutter down from the rafters where the set piece had dropped. I looked up, and could swear that I saw a shadow move. I gasped.

"The Phantom of the opera," I whispered, dropping the note in my surprise. "He's here."

"The WHAT?" Firmin asked from beside me. I shook my head.

"Nothing, well, my Mum should talk to you about the opera ghost," I said with slight fear in my voice. The Phantom had been at Carlotta for years, and only my Mum and I knew the real story about him. Though that is not important right now.

"Opera ghost? Don't be silly!" André scuffed. I looked at him sollumly.

"Oh, I would not doubt, Monsieur. He is very real," I said with all serriousness.

"Well, an Opera Ghost is the least of our worries right now, where is the understudy for La Carlotta?" André asked. I bit my lip.

"Understudy?" Asked the conductor, baffled. "There IS no understudy for LA CARLOTTA!" The two men looked at each other, no worried.

"A full house refunded! Refunding a full house! It's not possible!" André fretted and paced. I saw Firmin looking closer at me. I stood straighter, wondering what was troubling him.

"Girl, what was your name again?" He asked me and André stopped pacing. I turned red, the spotlight suddenly on me.

"Meg Giry, Monsieur," I said politely. He looked me over.

"Can you sing?" My eyes widened. I couldn't speak. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned my head and there was Cecile!

"Monsieur, Meg Giry is the best singer besides La Carlotta here! She would be a wonderful replacement for Carlotta!" She said with confidence. My face turned pale.

"N-no, the best singer here is Christine Da-" I tried reasoning, but Cecile gave a poke in my ribs that made me silent.

"Christine Daae is sick in bed, Meg Giry would be happy to replace her in tonight's show," Cecile grinned.

"Alright then, let's hear her," Said André. The two owners stepped aside and so did Cecile after squeezing my hand. I gulped, and wrung my hands together. ME? Meg Giry? As the new lead? This was insanity!

But the piano music started up and I swallowed, knowing that I should give it my all, for Christine and Cecile. And Mum. She'd be so proud! As would the Phantom, if he cared for me anymore.

"Think of me,think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while. Please promise me you'll try. When you find, that once again you long to take your heart back and be free, if you ever find a moment spare a thought for me," I sang and the song finished it's small demo. I blushed as everyone around me began to clap. I saw the two on the side, clapping and talking. Oh, God, I've never been so nervous in my life. I wanted it, but I didn't want it either! The Lead always had something happen to them! I mean, look at Carlotta!

Eventually, they stopped, and they both walked over with my fate. Firmin grinned and what he said made my blood run cold.

"Meg Giry, welcome to the lead role."

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_**Best Wishes, Aktress**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sorry it's so long! BACKSTORY TIIIIIIME! X) More action next chapter!_**

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_**Chapter three**_

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"Oh, God, Christine!" I sat by her bed, recalling today's events. "I don't think I can do it!" Christine was sitting up, and had a cup of tea. She was feeling a little better.

"Meg, you're a wonderful singer! You'll do fine tonight!" She smiled. She just didn't get it. I frowned.

"Christine, maybe you'd be a wonderful substitute, but ME? I'm just Meg! I'm my mother's child! How can you expect me to atract a crowd like Carlotta can with her looks? And you, YOU are so much better than I! Oh, Christine! I wish YOU were well so you could sing instead! I'm a nervous wreck!" I tried to reason but by then I was shaking so hard it was like I was sick. 

My Mum and the new owners were in another room, discussing me. And the Phantom. Just the thought of him made me angry, and scared. I was still shaking, and held my head.

"God, what if I crack on a note? Or what if I can't sing at all? What if something horrible happens to me, Christine?" I fretted. Christine tried to laugh, but it turned into a fit of coughing. I slapped her back like I was burping a baby. She finally caught her breath and smiled up at me.

"Meg, you're such a worrier! I don't doubt you for a second! And what horrible thing could happen to you?" She laughed, as if my head wasn't quite screwed on right. But I didn't smile back. I knew what might happen. Sudden thoughts of when I was ten burst into my mind.

When my mother was just a girl, she had saved him (the Phantom) from the Circus freak life, with his deformed face. It was still ugly, but I didn't scream in terror anymore. When I was just six years old, my mother had told me the tale of him.

Of course I was terrified of it, she made it sound so scary me, so I would not go down into the catacombs. Though being a foolish and quite cocky girl on my tenth birthday, I ventured down.

I was exploring the Opera house, for being ten is the age of curriousity, and I ventured to a small door I'd never taken a second glance at. There was a sign on it, it messy scrawl, Do Not Enter, Broken Mirror. Though seeing as a broken mirror should hardly be anything worth fretting over, I entered without a care.

The door squeaked open, and I glanced inside. Just as the door had said, there was nothing but dust, cobwebs, and a broken mirror. I wandered further in, to see possibly why it was abandoned. I took but a few steps when the door suddenly slammed shut, and my heart stopped for a second.

That's when I started to be frightened. I pondered over pounding on the door to get out, but saved that as last resort. For how much trouble I was in right now was far times less than if my Mum found out I'd been in a forbidden room. Deciding to find my own way out, I searched deeper into the room, ending up to be a small dressing room. But there were no dresses, no roses, nothing, as if the place had ceased to exsist from humanity until I came in.

I shrieked as I felt something crawl across my foot. Most likely a rat. I shuddered and looked quickly for anything else that might make we scream. There was nothing, and it was silent. That's when I heard his voice.

At first all I heard was an yell of irritation, then slamming of keys on an organ. It was a faint sound, but nonetheless, it was real. And it was coming from inside the mirror. I shook my head, wondering if I was imagining things, had I gone completely bonkers?

But no, it seemed so real! I walked to the broken mirror, looking inside. I finally decided to look and I stepped into the mirror. The sound drew closer and closer with each step I took. I pranced down a flight of stairs, and I could make out singing now. It was soft, and powerful, but soon after the singing came the yelling. It intriged me! I ran quicker, now giddy with fright!

I stopped after the stairs. There was a lake! How on earth could I possibly get across? Lucky for me, there was a boat right on the waterfront. I silently got into the boat and inside was a paddle. I quickly paddled my way quietly down the water. I stopped when I turned a corner. There really WAS someone down here! I wondered who it could be!

Then I remembered something, something crucial. It was the story my mother had told me, just years ago. I ducked down into the boat, so that the ghost of the opera house would not see me. My little heart was fluttering. That's when he resumed singing and playing the organ.

"Ghost of song,

Guide and guardian,

Grant to me- AAAUGH!"

I heard the yelling again and the organ's keys were all played at the same time, breaking the spell I was under from the beautiful music. The male singing couldn't have been more than about 16 or so, 6 years older than I was.

I peeked up and the ghost... he wasn't a ghost at all. He was a man! I sat up straight to get a better look. He was wearing tatters, and he his head was only visible to me halfway. I was right, he did look somewhat like a teenager. Suddenly, he looked over at me and I gasped.

One because he was staring straight at me. And two because of his face. I covered my mouth at how horrible it looked. My mum was right about one thing, his face was terrifying. He stared at me, then got a look of coldness and hate on it. He started towards me.

Oh, God.

I scrambled around the boat. Where was that oar? Oh, God he was almost there. I gave up on my search and stared in horror at the boy. His face was filled with rage, but suddenly the part that could move softened and he wispered. "Giry?"

I blinked, saying nothing. How did he know my last name. The boy shook his head. "No, no. You can't be her. She was older, she probably is long gone, in her twenties now. Who are you?" He demanded suddenly.

I opened my mouth without words coming out. "I-I-I... I'm dreadfully sorry. I didn't mean to come down here. M-My curiousity overtook me. If you might please point me in the right direction... then I-I will be on my way," The words suddenly came out. The boy looked me up and down.

I wondered what he was thinking. Would he kill me? Would he caputure me? Would I ever see the light of day again. Finally, he sighed. "Go back the way you came. You aren't worth my time. Leave, now," He said and turned back around, back to his organ.

But I didn't want to leave. Not yet. So I just sat in the small boat and watched the boy. He sat down again and began to sing and play again.

"Ghostly phantom,

Unmasked horror,

Grant to me your glory,

ghostly- AAUGH!"

He stopped again. "No, no, NO! It all sounds wrong! It doesn't WORK!" He yelled. His voice was so angelic when he sang...

"Angel of music," I said softly, but he must have heard me. He turned around angrily.

"Why are you still here?" He yelled. It hurt me a little but I stood up and got out of the boat, knowing that I was right.

"Angel. Not, ghost. Angel of music," I said. He looked thoughtful for a second.

"Angel? You'd dare call someone like ME? An angel of all things! Look at me!" He said, pointing to his deformed face. I cringed a little, but stood my ground. I reached into my black cloak's pocket. It was a mask, I was going to use it for next week's masquarade ball, but maybe he could use it.

It was a half mask, and it would fit. Pure white as eggshell. I handed it to him. "Take this," I said, looking away from his face. I could hear him breathing softly. I dared look again, and he was putting the mask on. He looked back at me.

He wasn't so bad when he had the mask on, in fact, he was pretty handsome. I smiled at him. He looked at me with confusion. "Why?" He asked.

I looked back at him. "Why what?"

"Why didn't you leave?" He asked. Not in an angry way, in a curious way. I thought it over.

Why DIDN'T I leave? Because of the miraculous voice? To help this poor soul? It didn't really make scene, so I just shrugged. "I could think of the perfect lyrics, and, and I guess I just wanted to tell you," I said bluntly. It WAS part of the truth.

He looked skeptical. "Okay, then, musical genius, tell me what the lyrics SHOULD be." Was he being sarcastic? Or did he really want me to? So I stepped up to the organ with dignity. I was taught the piano, so was an organ really that different?

After testing out the music I'd heard, I tried to play.

Alas, I was a failure. I bit my lip, and saw the ghostly boy chuckling. I narrowed my eyes. "Fine! You play the music. I'll figure out the words." So he stepped up to the organ and played a short little song.

"Play it again," I said and closed my eyes. I pictured the music and lyrics floating together... picturing the sound of each word.

So it went on for an hour or so, he'd play, I'd try some lyrics out. Eventually, we ended up with this song:

Angel of music,

Guide and mystic,

Show to me your true self.

Angel of music,

hide no longer,

secretive strange angel.

It wasn't much, but it was wonderful for a ten year old and a boy. I said I'd ought to get home and he paddled me back to the staircase with the broken mirror.

I stepped out, and shook the boy's hand. "Oh, and my name is Meg. Meg Giry," I said, smiling.

The boy stared. "Giry? I used to know a girl with the last name Giry... would you have any relation to Antoinette Giry?" The boy said.

I blinked in surprise. "Yes, that is my mother," I stated. He looked at me in wonder.

"You are her daughter? Antoinette really is grown up now..." He said in awe. This must be the boy my mother saved!

"Please, Meg. Do not tell your mother you were here. If she has changed, she will make me evacuate," The boy said.

I nodded. "I wouldn't tell a soul, anyway. I'll be in trouble just for being gone so long, if I was known to be down here, I'd be dead!" I smiled. He smiled back, and I noticed he was shivering. I thought for a moment, then took off my black cloak.

I tossed it to him and he looked at me surprised. "Dear Meg, won't you be cold?"

"You need it more than I do. You may keep it, if you tell me your name," I said to him and started cilmbing the stairs.

"Erik," He said.

"Well, goodbye, then, Erik. Take care down here. Come up to room 122 if you just need help. My mother and I reside there," I said to him

"Goodbye, and thank you, Meg Giry," He said, and paddled his way back. I raced back up the stairs, and to my good fortune, the door was open again!

Afterwards, for the next couple years, Erik, or as I had playfully nicknamed him 'The Phantom', would talk to me through the rafters, from underground. I would often visit him, and we would prefect songs, and make up new ones. It was wonderful, and my singing would improve.

Until Christine came, of course.

He stopped visiting me. I was worried about him, and I tried to visit him, but the abandoned room was now fixed up and was turned into Christine's. I thought maybe he left, for good. Maybe he was caught.

But the day I heard Christine whispering with the other girls about a mysterious voice coaching her to sing, I ran away in tears. My phantom had left me, for a new voice to coach. Now, I had a grudge against the man.

Lately, it scares me. Christine has unknowingly been the reason for things. Now that I thought of it, many odd things were happening, mostly around the female lead sapranno. Soon, I realised his intent.

He wanted to make Christine the lead role, with her outstanding voice.

But she was sick, and I was now the lead role. What would happen to me tonight? Would I be dead by the morning? A sure sign that everyone give Christine what she wants?

Back in reality, I was scared to death, and even Christine's reasuring smile could not help me now. I could only wait in fear 'til tonight. 

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**_Yay Phantom!_**

**_Best wishes,_**

**_Aktress._**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Ohhhhhhh my gosh! I have really gotten into the spirit of this story! I've been exceedingly annoying and addicted to writing this, and my mom literally had to pry me off the computer last night! XD But here it is, the heart-pounding chapter 4, and one of my favorites so far!_**

**_(Cue screeching Phangirls.)_**

**_Enjoy, and please leave box 5 empty!_**

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_**Chapter four**_

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"I look like a cream puff," I complained to Cecile as she went behind me, fluffing up my drab hair uselessly.

"Well, you make a better cream puff than Carlotta ever would," She joked. I smiled a little.

"True, Miss Jammes. Though I'm still scared to death," I said looking ahead at nothing but the wall and the other girls suiting up. She pulled on my corset and I coughed.

"Scared? Butterflies in your stomach?" She teased. "Maybe a suitor in the crowd you'd like to impress?" I rolled my eyes.

"As if, the life of dancer is an indapendant one," I retorted.

"Ooh, I don't know, Meg! How about that man we saw backstage? What was his name? Roger or something?" She asked, back to teasing up my hair.

"You mean the fop with the long, honey gold curls? He looks more like a lady than you do, Cecile!" I joked.

She laughed. "Point taken, do not fall for fops with hair longer than your own!" She said with a chuckle. I smiled. "So what ARE you scared of? Any other girl would kill to be you tonight,"

The smile wiped off my face and I bit my lip. It's not like I could TELL her about the Phantom, and why I was concerned.

"It's- it's just because of so many people. It scares me to death," I lied. Although, the huge crowd WAS scaring me to death, it only played second-fiddle to why I felt I was going to die tonight.

I felt her tug up my hair and stick some wirey thing in it. "Yeah, I guess so, you'll be fine," Cecile said and adjusted the wire. I saw one of the stagehands peek back at us.

"Five minutes til' your scene, Meg," She said and smiled. I tried to give her a smile back. She disapeared again. I stopped my fake smile and sighed.

"Good luck, Meg! You'll do much better than Carlotta! Waaaay too much vabratto in her voice if you ask me," Cecile said, giving me a small mirror to look into and walking away to change into her costume for the dancer's scene.

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Counting to ten, I stepped up to the stage, where the current scene was finishing up. Music stops, audience claps. Bows, and exit. My stomach churned. That was my cue.

I looked to the stage hand who smiled back, and I walked onto the stage, trying to keep my ballence in these impossible high and extremely poofy gown. And trying to look in character.

The audience clapped at my entrance and I tried to grin, while the whole time, scanning the theatre for any visable way to see if there was a cut rope on the chandelier that might send me to the grave. Anyone in the theatre with any guns, weapons. No... I looked up to box 5, where I knew Erik usually would sit often. But it was empty.

My stomach twisted a little, but the orchestra had already started up, and there was no going back. So I faked a smile, and began to sing.

The song itself was killing me. It was't usually this long, and everything was moving in slow motion. I singled in on Opera-goers. Some were smiling, intent on my singing, ad others looked bored out of their mind. I even saw one woman punching her husband in the shoulder, waking him up suddenly. I would have had a good laugh with Cecile about that kind of thing.

But right as I neared the end of the song, when I had dropped all defences and wasn't expecting anything unreasonable or out of the blue, something dropped from the top of the stage.

I looked up, still singing. All I saw was a black cloak and suddenly it fell beside me with a thunk. The thing had landed on it's feet, and I saw a flash of eggshell. My masqarade mask. My blood ran cold and suddenly I was staring into his face.

I gasped, and the rest of the song was forgotten. The orchestra had stopped playing, and there were murmers throughout the crowd. I stood there, open mouthed and wide eyed.

I hadn't seen Erik for at least half a year. He didn't look much different, but my heart twisted up. Why was he here? Were my deepest suspicions confirmed, that I was about to die. I looked and saw a noose in his hands. My hands flew up to my mouth and I stepped back.

One thing I had forgotten to mention about dear Erik, his positively favorite weapon was a noose. I couldn't tell you how creepy it would be years back when I was about maybe 13 or so when I'd find rats dead, hung by nooses. I would shriek, and Erik would get a good laugh, proud of his dark handiwork.

But this time, the vermin were safe for once. I looked up at him, and he had a horrible glare in his eyes. He wasn't looking at me though, he was looking to the rafters. I looked up and shrieked. I saw the corpse of a stagehand, not one that I knew, hung with a noose, and lying there. Cold and dead. I wondered if that was my fate too.

Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. Erik was behind me as I was looking up, screaming, and had slipped the noose over my head.

Oh, God! I could only breathe a little bit, and barely any air entered or exited my body. I was going to die! I tried screaming, but it was useless. One, because of the air intake. Two, because everyone in the crowd was screaming loud enough for anyone over in America to hear!

But he wasn't killing me right away. Why? What did he want? I tried looking at him, but I couldn't. I tried digging my hands underneath the rope, but was unsuccessful. I saw up in one of the boxes, there was that man I'd called a fop. He was looking Foppish as ever, but he was just staring in horror. Useless fop.

In the next, I saw the new owners. I tried sending telepathic brain messages, something like, "SAVE ME! MY CHILDHOOD IDOL IS ABOUT TO MURDER ME!" Something like that. They were just staring in horror as well to the Phantom.

Although the whole Opera was loud and echoed throughout, Erik's strong and powerful voice was audible over the noise. "Did I not instruct in my note to have Christine Daae as the replacement for Carlotta tonight?"

Mostly, it grew silent in the theatre, though some screaming was still audible. I saw André and Firmin's faces both flush to a pale and ghostly white.

"Monsieur, I assure you that Miss Daae would have been in the lead, if not for a nasty head cold! Would you please let Miss Giry al-" Firmin yelled, though his voice didn't carry out as well as Erik's did. 

"Have you no doctor?" The Phantom boomed, interupting the man.

"Yes, but-" Firmin tried. I felt the noose grow tighter and I clawed at the rope around my neck.

"Then let this serve as a reminder to you two, since you may not know the rules here. Rule number one, you do exactly as the Phantom says," He boomed and suddenly, there was no air at all. I began choking, and gasping for a breath. I heard everyone else in the crowd gasp too, at the sight of me about to die, most likely.

"Or else there will be consequnces," He said. Suddenly, his arms were wrapped around myself and the sight of everything was gone, because the curtain fell. AlI saw was red curtain, and the noose around my neck was loosened a bit. I turned to face Erik, my face most likely red from lack of breath.

I looked into his eyes, and saw there was something in them I'd never seen before. Revenge? Disapointment? Humor? I couldn't tell, and I confronted him.

"What are you going to do, now, Phantom? You can't leave me here! I'd tell everyone that you live down in the catacombs! And you couldn't kill me! My mum knows where you reside, and she'll be sure to sent a mob after you!" I burst out, the noose still hanging loosely from my neck as I shouted in anger. Although it was so noisy, no one but Erik could hear me. He narrowed his eyes.

"I'll pick option number three," He said, with a hint of a smile. Then he grabbed me and slung me over his shoulders. I kicked and screamed, but the whole world rushed by, and soon, there was nothing but darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hey, Phanfiction readers! Sorry for the anticipation I may have caused, but here is chapter 5! Uber special thanks to FantasticMisticalWonder (Let me know if I spelled it wrong!) For sticking with this story! I promise, it gets AWESOME. I've been planning and all I can say is how epic this will be! X)**_

**_(Little sister in other room is watching Beauty and the Beast... I never noticed how much the Phantom characters fit into those characters... even if I don't support Erik/Christine! X) Can I smell a new story coming up?)_**

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Chapter 5_**

"So, what exactly is your grand scheme?" I called to Erik, who was sitting at his organ, just as in olden days when we were younger. I wondered if he EVER left it. Besides, of course, singing to his new favorite, Christine. And trying to kill me, then preceding to kidnap me.

Without turning to face me, he said, "That is none of your concern," I frowned and sat. I felt like a chained hound, with a chain clamped to my foot. I could walk maybe a perimeter of 10 by 10 feet. But why was I here?

Erik had dragged me into Christine's dressing room and into the mirror, somehow not smashing it. I hit against him and kicked the whole time, but it was useless. He had had a firm grip on me, and in this dress? Completely unreasonable for me, I'd rather be in a male's riding pants than that thing.

So he dragged me down. Once we got down to the lake, he had me stuffed into the boat. Although he didn't have me hooked to anything, fighting anyone in a dress this big should be against the law.

Plus, even if I WAS in reasonable clothing, fighting Erik, who had a noose was impossible. And the fact I had no clue how deep the lake was, or that I knew how to swim. In other words, it was probably for the best that I didn't struggle.

By the time we had gotten to his chamber, he lead me out, although I tried snatching the oar from the boat. But the Phantom was quicker than I could ever be. One glare from him and I put the oar down with a clang. He grabbed me by the arm and forced me out of the boat.

He lead me over by some kind of grate and had me chained up like a comen hound by my left foot. Then he had retired to his organ and sat down. But for some odd reason, he wasn't playing. He was bent over it, but not even so much as note hit the keys.

I sat there, staring at Erik. What was he up to? I stared into the back of his head. His hair was uneven and inky black. Although I knew it most likely had not been washed with soap in a long while, it looked so... so touchable. I wagered he cut his hair with a knife of some sort. It kind of frightend me that he would have a knife so close to his head. Although I guess siscors are just as bad, in a way.

Looking up past the lake, I wondered if above on the surface, were people worried about me? Had they rushed to my mother? She would know where I was, I think. Or did she forget about him?

No, she couldn't have, especially not after a note had been sent, and my kidnapping. I wondered if they'd rescue me. Would my mother think I was already dead? She must have SOME hope in me. Although, how much longer I'd be alive was unknown to me. Which sparked curiousity within me, despite the dark subject. Why was I here?

I'd already asked, and obviously I wasn't going to be told straightout. I looked once again at Erik, who was bent over the organ still. What had happened to him?

He'd never actually killed a human before. Only those unfortunate rats long ago. When I saw that stage-hand up in the rafters... I knew something was wrong. Heck, the last time I'd seen him was right after Christine came to the Opera. Even THEN he was unfocused and seemed like he'd had his mind elsewhere.

I tried to speak again. "You cannot keep me down here forever, you know. Chained up like a useless hunting dog. They'll come for me," I tried to sound strong. I heard him sigh and a shuffling of papers.

"Don't sound so sure," Was all he said, before he took up his cloak, then reached for something on the organ. I debated screaming for help, but I knew it was useless. He stood, then calmly walked over to the boat, paddling off, without as much as a sidelong glance at me.

Once he was out of sight, I stood up too. What do I do now? Was he just going to leave me here? My heart started to beat faster. Oh, God, was he going to leave me to die and rot right here? Well, it was his lair, he wouldn't leave a stinking corpse there, would he?

And what were those mysterious papers? Was it a really long ransom note? It looked nearly as big as a novel. I sat down again and tried to hold my knees. But this stupid, stupid dress! In my fit of fear, fright, and ultimate uncomfort, it all suddenly turned to rage. I ripped the stupid wirey thing out of my hair and threw it to the ground with force.

Next came the heels, which I flung so hard into the lake, I thought they might sink to the bottom in a matter of seconds. And this dumb, big hoop skirt was hurting me. I hiked up my skirts and tore the wire from my hips. Although I couldn't throw it because of my trapped foot, it stayed on my chain. Now that I was more comfy, I sat and held my knees up to my head.

I wondered what would become of me, and it had been a long day. So I took part of my skirt and held it up to my head as a make-shift pillow. Not knowing when the next time I'd wake up, I tried to sleep.

Though I didn't know when I fell asleep, I was woken up rudely with a kick.

"Get up," He said. Oof! I opened one eye and quickly woke up. "Now, Miss Giry,"

I sat up and looked angrily up to him. "Have you decided to tell me what you want with me?" I asked him, smearing the makeup on my eyes more than they already were. 

"No," He said coldly. I looked into his eyes. Where did he go? I knew he despised the world and nearly everyone in it, but once upon a time, we would laugh together. And I would always remember it when he laughed, because his dark eyes would sparkle and gleam.

But there was no indication he'd ever even cracked a smile on his face at the moment. I wondered what he was thinking. "Now stand," I stood up obidiantly, with the hoop of my skirt clanging against the chains.

He looked quizically at the wire hoop, then back at me. Was that a small glimmer in his eye? I shrugged and smiled a little bit. "You try to sleep one night in a hoop skirt and I'll let you give me grief about it."

For a brief second, I saw him smile. He smiled! But then his eyes were back to normal again. He walked over to my foot, and took out a small key, and he unlocked the clamp from my foot. I stepped out and thought about running. But I saw a noose hooked around like a belt around his waist, so I stopped considering that. I just stared at him. He stood back up and held out his hand.

I looked at it with a confused gaze. "Give me your hand," He said comandingly. My heart started racing. What was going on? Why must I give him my hand? I looked up in his eyes, and my mind thought back to the so many times I had been down here. One imparticular had come to mind.

When I was fourteen, and I had taught Erik how to ballroom dance. I had laughed as we tumbled over each other and failed at trying to dance. But after a few weeks practice, we were dancing like the professionals. Dancing together, our bodies so close. I remembered looking up into his eyes... remembering... something.

I felt the same feeling right now. So I lifted a hand and put it in his. Though, I knew that I was wrong, as he grabbed my hand with force, nearly squishing it. I gasped at the sudden crush of my hand and he reached down, grabbing the lasso and hooking it around my wrist. He pulled it tight until I cried out a little in pain.

I looked up at him, confused. What was he even doing? But his eyes gave no emotion or hint as to what he was about to do.

"Come with me, now," He said powerfully. He grabbed the end of the noose and dragged me by my hand towards a curtain, with a mirror underneath, I believe. What was he doing?

"What is going on?" I asked him, with a hint of panic in my voice. He looked back at me.

"Be quiet, and maybe I will tell you on the way down," He said, swiping across the curtain, and lifting it up to reveal a tunnel. I gasped. When was this built? Erik had never shown this to me. We walked inside, and a creaking was heard, followed by a slam. I knew that some kind of door had closed behind us. What? And why? But I wanted to know what was going on, so I kept silent as he started to lead me down a tunnel, a prisoner of the Phantom.

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**_Best Wishes, _**

**_Aktress._**


	6. Chapter 6

**_I'm so addicted to writing this that I may need therapy! I'm already working on chapter 11! I think my new posting schedule will be around maybe 1 per two days? School is a huge obstacle with writing, but that's the beauty of a three day weekend! _**

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_**Chapter Six**_

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We had been walking in darkness for a while now, maybe five minutes. I hadn't tried to get free yet, though with every step I knew I got farther away from escaping. I looked back only twice, but it was just as dark as ahead. The floor was dirt, I believed, from the cool, earthy feel underneath my bare feet, since my heels were long gone in the pool. Although, I can't say I missed them much.

The silence overwhelmed me, clashing with my screaming thoughts. Would Erik finally tell me why I was here?

"Will you tell me, now that the world is at least a mile away?" I dared ask, my voice sounding loud and echoed within the dark tunnel. Erik pulled at my wrist, leaving me to stumble a little bit.

"Be quiet, we are nearly there," He said. If I could see him, I would have given him an angry glare. Forget the fact he had a lasso, he was just being plain rude right now!

"Have you no dignity? Should I be thrown into prison without knowing the accusition for my condemned fate?" I asked angrily. "At least have the courage to tell me why I am trapped in such a place I haven't been down willingly to in half a year?"

Erik must have stopped, because I crashed into his back. He shoved me backwards. "Foolish girl, watch where you're walking!" He yelled at me, though I could tell it was not my walking that hit a nerve.

"How must I watch where I'm walking when it is so dark I cannot even see my feet?" I retorted. I felt a slap to my face and I cried out a little bit.

"Do not talk back!" He roared and I reached up to my stinging cheek. I felt a tear escape from my eye and I quietly sobbed. I heard him sigh, and tug on the rope, signaling me to keep on moving.

I took cautious steps for a moment in silence. Then he spoke. "I suppose letting you know why you are here is a ligitiment way to pass the time. But you must swear to be silent the whole time I talk."

"Yes," I whispered, still stung by the attack.

"Then I shall tell you what has happened. As you may recall, I had sent a note to the new owners of my opera regarding the placement of Christine Daae. You know her, right?" He said. I didn't say a thing. "You may answer."

"Yes, I know Christine," I answered with slight distaste in my voice. I'd been thinking, and what has Christine done for me in the past two days? Only called in sick, so that I must play the lead role. Sure, it sounds wonderful, until my childhood (well, I should say recent, up until SHE came) best friend came onstage, nearly murdered me, then kidnaped me, only to lead me down a dark hallway of doom.

And the whole concept of stealing my childhood friend from me.

He continued on. "Well, I had demanded that Christine replace Caroltta after her... 'unfortunate accident'." I gasped.

"YOU made the set peice fall!" I said, with a mix of distaste and awe in my voice.

"I said not to speak!" He tugged on the rope harshly. I shut my mouth. "Christine was to be the leading lady, until I had learned that my wishes were denied."

I bit my lip. "Christine was sick, and I had hardly asked for the role, rather I was forced into it," I defended myself.

"But what was the illness? As I had heard, it was 'merely a head cold'?" He quoted from one of the new owners, I had forgotten their names already.

"All the same, in my defence, we had not known of your will before I was hired! And even if a doctor could've checked on Christine, she couldn't have had a one-night recovery!" I retorted.

"Her voice would have been better than any replacement." His words left me with a pang in my heart. He was seeming to suggest that my voice could not hold a candle to anyone else's. With my unbound hand, I wiped a tear from my eye. I realised that I had spoken out of turn, and he had even let me argue against him.

"Seeing as though I was not to be taken serriously, I decided the owners may need some inspiration, if you will. So as I have been working on a script for some time, I finished my masterpeice quickly and attached a note. It regarded the safe return of a certain ballet rat in exchange of Christine as the lead," He went on. I puzzled over this for a moment.

"And if your wish is not fulfilled?" I dared ask. He made a low chuckle.

"Then you will never see the light of day again," He said. I nearly choked on the tears that still stained my face from the slap.

"How long is the deadline?" I asked quietly. He didn't answer for a second.

"One week. If I have not seen Christine preform, then they shall never see YOU again," He said simply. My eyes grew wide.

"One week?" I nearly screeched. "That should only be enough time for her to fully recover! To learn the lyrics, and for it to be preformed at even minimal quality would take far longer!" To myself, I knew I was doomed for sure. And all because of stupid Christine.

"Then I would count each breath, for any could soon be your last," He said back. I fell silent and felt tears rolling feverishly down my face. "Why so suddenly quiet? A smart mouth such as yours will not close so easily."

"Count it as a blessing I've finally become mute, you won't have to listen to my dreadful voice any longer," I whispered voilently. It was quiet for a while, but a small subject was on the tip my tonuge.

"Why are you obsessed with her?" I asked, suddenly wishing I could take it back. But he was silent. "W-what's so special about her, anyways? Her voice? Anyone could be trained to have a voice like hers! Anyone could sing like she could, with a little practice!"

I felt a breeze as he whipped around to face me, even though it was dark as midnight. Startling close, I heard him speak. "Do not ever speak of Christine like that again. No one could sing better than she. She is an angel," He spoke through gritted teeth, I could tell. I flinched back and he tugged on the rope once again, with a swoosh of his dark cape.

_An angel_, I thought. _An angel, maybe. But hardly is she an Angel of Music. _

We walked in silence for maybe another minute, and then I heard a small smack, like we had hit something. Erik cursed under his breath, and I heard a creak, just like the door before.

He lead me into another room, just like the hallway. I felt him take a different direction, then the sound of a match being lit. The sudden flame caused my eyes to narrow. I quickly wiped my cheeks, to wipe some of my teary evidence away.

I watch Erik raise the match to a torch and light it, then another, and another. I looked around the now brightly lit room. There was nothing much in here, almost like a jail cell. There were two beds that were most likely made out of straw or some kind of stuffing, but it wasn't quite possible to tell, because there was a thin layer of cloth over the top of each bed. The two beds were on opposite sides of the room

There was also a small chamber pot in the corner, which I revolting found to be out in the open, not even behind a cloth.

I turned to Erik. "Is this where I should stay the rest of my short-lived life?"

"Yes," He said plainly.

"Will I be left to starve, or shall you take care of the matter of food and drink?" I asked.

"I will arange for food every dawn and dusk," He answered simply, then turned back to the door, to close it. I looked down at the second bed.

"I suppose I am the only prisoner of yours? Why is there a second bed?" I asked.

"For me," He said. I blinked in shock.

"You'd rather sleep and reside in this small room instead of your lovely home?" I asked with surprise.

"I'm only in here becuase if I was still in my home, a mob could kill or find me in an instant," He grumbled. "The hallway is too dark and cold to live in, if only for a week. This is a last resort for me."

I asked another question. "Why me?" I asked softly.

He stopped at the door and looked at anything but my eyes. "You were merely the easiest to get ahold of. Do not feel so honored," He said. I looked at him still.

"Would it not be smarter to capture someone more important to the theatre? Such as Carlotta? Anyone would pay for her safe return. I'm just a ballet rat, the only thing that keeps my hope alive is my dear mother. But not even she can guarentee Christine will be preforming in one week's time," I said, realising I may never see my mum again.

He was silent for a moment. "Carlotta would be too much to handle. It may have been foolish to not just lasso her neck around beforehand," He chuckled. But I knew the real reason. He knew I wouldn't tell on him. I wasn't stupid. He was using me, as easy bait.

He closed the door from the inside. The he walked to the mat closest to the door. "I have had a long day, and I wish to rest. When I wake, I will get food," He said, the lay down. "It's useless trying to escape."

There was a little bit of silence. "What does Christine have? Is it her looks? Her voice? Has she even met you before?" I asked.

More silence. Then he spoke. "She... she is everything. She is the loveliest woman in Paris. And her voice I have been coaching. She calls me her Angel of Music," He replied. Angel of music... I thought we had used it before, in a song. No, I KNEW.

"You love, her, don't you?" I whispered. But he did not respond, like he hadn't heard me.

I sat on my mat of a bed, lying down although I wasn't tired, and wondered how much longer a week was.

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_**Just a week! What do you think fate has in mind for Meg? Guess you'll just have to wait a few days! Special thanks to Little Luxa, my second and just as wonderful reviewer! So thank you so much! X)**_

_**Best Wishes,**_

_**Aktress. **_


	7. Chapter 7

**_As promised, here you are, my lovely fantastic wonderful (here's a new one my friend Cheshire Phantom made up) FOPULAR! XD _**

**_We were listening to Popular from Wicked and suddenly she was all like, "FOPULAR!" It was really weird and awkward, but then I literally ROFLed. Goooood times!_**

**_But anywho, here ya' are! Enjoy!_**

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**Chapter 7**

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I had been sitting and waiting for him to wake for hours on end. When I knew he was asleep, I decided that shoes or no shoes, I should practice my dancing. I danced in the small space for a while, until I accidentally stubbed my toe. Then I sat back on my mat.

How to pass the time with nothing to do? I peeked at the mat, and discovered it WAS straw. So I had taken a few peices and began braiding them. After maybe an hour of that, I began laughing, in spite of myself. Funny how limited my life is, and I spend it weaving braids from straw.

I tried sleeping, but I quickly found it to be impossible. Luckily, he woke soon after that. I watched him sit up and I curled up my legs, so that I could hold my knees.

"Sleep well?" I asked him.

"No," He said grumpily and got up. "Stay here, I will go to get food." Then he quietly opened the door, and closed it behind him. Once again, I was left as the only awake thing in the room. I considered trying to dance again, but my toe throbed as a reminder.

I took some straw from my mat again, this time trying to weave a pair of soft shoes. But soon the door opened again, surprisingly quick. He came inside with a bit of bread and a small jug of water, then closed the door again. I set my 'shoes' down.

He walked over to me, and handed me a bit of bread, and I took it graciously. "Thank you," I said, although he did not reply. He walked back to his mat, with the rest of the bread and the water. I ate my peice slowly, despite my poor rumbling stomach.

When I was finished, I looked back to him. He was eating his bread and the small bit of water he had brought looked untouched. My throat burned, and I wanted something to drink in dire need.

"May I please have some of the water?" I asked politely. He stared at me, then nodded. I stood and took the jug, washing my throat with the slightly warm water. I wondered where he'd gotten the food, and how so quickly? Was it stored somewhere?

I set the jug down again and wiped my face with a sleeve. Walking back over to sit on my mat, I heard Erik chuckle. I looked up to him.

"What happens to be so funny?" I asked.

"Only the fact that any other woman might have asked for a cup, or politely dabbed their mouth with a cloth. Unlike you, who took the water straight from the jug and wiped your face with a sleeve," He responded, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Are you trying to say I'm unladylike?" I smiled back. "With hair gorgeous as this, and makeup so elegantly applied, how can you say that?" I asked, knowing fully well that I looked awful. "Maybe I'm not quite a lady." Although I meant to say I wasn't yet a woman, and still a teenage girl, it sounded silly.

He chuckled. "Dear me, I seem to have kidnapped a cross dresser," He said and I laughed like I hadn't laughed in the longest time. Ever since Erik and I had been on good terms, maybe.

I giggled a little and looked away, my cheeks slightly reddening. It became silent, and I curled back into my safe little ball. I sighed, remembering the times we had laughed so much. It was a while back, but I could still remember those times.

Over the simplest things, like singing way off key, or playing a series of bad notes. Those would get me laughing on the floor. I sighed a little. I wondered if Christine had never come here, would I be here right now? Captive? Would I be down here, but willingly?

I wondered if I lived in the past too much. Maybe I should just forget that we were ever friends. I mean, a ballet rat and the Phantom of the opera... best friends. It was rediculous, really. I looked up to Erik, who had the water jug. I watched him stare at it for a second, and then take a drink from it. After, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, just as I had. I smiled.

Maybe he was still in there, somewhere. I couldn't give up on him. I lay my head down on my knees I closed my eyes, trying to see if I could go to sleep.

No such luck. I opened my eyes again and spotted my 'shoes'. So I picked them up, and began atempting to weave them. I had learned a bit on how to sew, but mostly I just danced. My mother did most of the mending. Making the shoes were an extremely hard task, and it might take the rest of my life to weave them. In other words, one week.

I thought a week into the future. Would Erik really kill me if Christine failed to preform? He seemed able to onstage last night. Or was it still night? I had no clue how much I'd slept, or how much time had passed at all.

What did death feel like, I wondered? The way Erik hung that man and those rats... it surely couldn't have been painless. And why did he hang that man anyways? Because he was in Erik's way? Or just for fun like the rats?

I prayed it wasn't just for fun, but I had seen a vicious look in Erik's eyes then. Maybe he really had changed...

I looked down at the shoes, and in my absentminded weaving I had messed it up a little. "Carlotta's voice," I mumbled. Erik looked up at me.

"What did you say?" He asked. I blushed a little.

"Nothing... it's just a little swear us ballet rats made up," I shrugged, feeling my face heat up a bit. He cracked a smile.

"Carlotta's voice..." He repeated. "That's new." I looked back down at my handiwork, and if you didn't know what I was trying to make, you would have never guessed they were supposed to be shoes.

"Do... do you remember the first time that Carlotta came to the opera?" I asked, looking up. Erik looked at me.

"When I was twenty," He said after a pause.

"And I at fourteen," I sighed, remembering back two years. "You had wanted to create a corset so tight for her, that her lungs would burst out of her." I smiled at the memory.

"I never got around to that," He said. "Though I often wonder what might've happened if I did. If Christine might have been the new lead soprano." I frowned. Was everything about Christine nowadays?

"Christine wasn't here two years ago," I said lowly. I heard him shift on his mat.

"Why do you hate Christine so much? I heard from her myself that she considers you a close friend, though you can hardly say the same," He said.

"Why do you LOVE her so much?" I retorted. There was a pause, then a sigh from him.

"I should not even be talking so casually with a prisoner," He grumbled. I still stood my ground.

"You and I have talked more casually before! Before that... that Christine!" I nearly fumed.

"Those days are in the past," He said back.

"Would they have still been now, if not for that awful girl?" I sat up straight and frowned.

"Have I not said to say anything bad about Christine?" He sat up straight too with a fuming look on his face.

"Yes, you have! And I find it unfair, as she has meddled with my whole life so much! It's like telling me to not say an unkind thing about a large boulder blocking a narrow path leading to where I'm destined to be!" I said, using metaphorical terms. He raised his eyebrow.

"Where exactly does this path lead to?" He asked and I felt my face grow ever redder.

"T-that's not important!" I argued weakly. I watched the corners of his mouth turn up and I blushed even deeper. Curse my pale skin! "I'm going back to my sewing."

"Sewing?" He asked. I picked up the tangled knot and began weaving it again.

"More like weaving, a pair of shoes for myself. I cannot practice my dancing without shoes. The last time I tried, I stubbed my toe," I said, trying to get the shape of the shoe.

He didn't speak after that, and after a bit I peeked over to him. He was sleeping... again. I hadn't noticed how much a person could sleep for so long.

I looked at his still figure. He was breathing softly, and you could hardly tell that this man was involved in a kidnapping and murder. I looked back again at my tangled knot.

Was he right? Were those days meant to be in the past? Was Christine not a passable boulder, but an iron gate with no key?

Then I'd never get to my destination. I blushed. Ever since I had taught Erik how to ballroom dance... it was... different for me. Two years I'd been like this. Two years of uncertainty. Two years of hiding myself...

I wasn't sure if I'd ever see the light of day again, I wasn't even sure if I'd wake up tomarrow alive.

But one thing was for certain.

I knew that I was in love with Erik.

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_**And HERE is where the story gets goooood! Betcha didn't expect that, did you? Okay, maybe you did. But whatever, I know I'm excited to most the next chapter on Thursday! Although I *might* not be able to, I have Drama Club at my school that day, but afterwards, I promise a Chapter 8! Thanks a ton to everyone (LOL rhyme!) and see you soon!**_

_**Best Wishes, **_

_**Aktress.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Sorry that it's so late into the day and now I can FINALLY post! I had Drama Club, homework, all the normal things for an eighth grade drama geek to be doing! :)**_

_**But here is the promised chapter 8! Enjoy! :D**_

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**Chapter 8**

I had no clue when I'd fallen asleep, but when I woke up, I found a few things.

One, another loaf of bread and jug with water, and there was a small bit of cheese with it too. Good, I was starving!

Two, Erik was gone. He wasn't anywhere to be seen, and I was half scared, until I saw the third thing.

A note.

It was written in red ink, and I wondered where he'd gotten the ink from, much less the paper. Had he dared gone back to his lair to write it? I picked it up and opened it. It read:

Dear Miss Giry,

Do not be alarmed that I am gone. I have gone to survey the damage done to my home. I will also be checking on Christine's room. To see if she has made any sign of recovery. I shall be back in a while.

Signed,

The Phantom.

I noticed that he had used neither of our first names, Meg or Erik. I also realised that he hadn't used our names while speaking either. No, 'Meg' this or 'Meg' that. It slightly unnerved me for some reason.

I set the note down and turned my attention to the food, quickly scarfing it down, manners aside. Could anyone really blame me? The bread was slightly stale, and the cheese was unappetisingly hard. But all the same, food was food, and I felt a small bit better after eating.

After the food was gone, I realised I had to, er, 'take care of something'. Once I had used the chamber pot, I stretched a little bit. It felt good to be up, to move around. I picked up the shoes I had been weaving. They were getting along, and were not too shabby, if I do say so myself.

I sat back on my mat and resumed the weaving of my shoes. I fit the shoe around my foot, and it seemed to fit for the most part. Even though it was just the base for the shoe.

Proud of my simple handiwork, I smiled and resumed weaving it. I had maybe been weaving for hours on end, carefully stitching together each bit of straw, when the door finally opened.

Erik walked inside with a slight bit of anger on his face. I looked up from my weaving and stared at him. His dark eyes were hinted with bits of flame in them, and I could tell something wasn't all right above ground.

"I hope the Phantom hunters didn't cause too much damage," I said, setting my work in my lap. He looked at me angrily and didn't answer, swishing his cape in a dramatic way, and plunked down onto his mat.

"Minimal damage, for the most part. Christine's mirror is smashed, and is now letting a draft in. I reckon that by tomarrow it will become much less suitable in temperature," He grumbled. It took me a bit by surprise.

"Shouldn't we be safe? Through a tunnel and two thick doors?" I asked. He shook his head.

"The tunnel, yes. But the doors are far from thick. By the time the chill hits, we shall be hit with a cold breeze, since the room has been vacent for a while." And plus the fact it was winter, it would most likely be very cold.

For the first time, I thanked God that I was in this layered dress. I picked up my shoes and once again began weaving. They were really begining to come together and I wondered why I'd never tried weaving before.

"Are you still working on those shoes?" Erik's grumbling voice asked me. I looked up in mid stitch.

"Is there nothing better to do than weave myself a pair of shoes?" I asked calmly.

"What would you do with the shoes?" He asked.

"Wear them, of course!"

"To where? If Christine does preform, then you will get better shoes. If not, you have nowhere to go," He pointed out.

"Is it wrong to finish? I have no doubt that Christine will sing, so why not practice? If somehow she fails, then why not die doing something I love?" I asked honorably.

He stared, trying to think of something else and I smirked. He caught my smile and frowned deeper.

"What's so amusing?" He asked. I just shook my head stubbornly. He sighed. "You are just like your mother." I cocked my head.

"What do you mean?"

"Her stubborn manner. For the first couple of days I had known her, she wouldn't tell me a thing about herself, just her name and that she lived close. Of course, she'd tell me how to survive, but that was it," He recalled. I stared off at the wall, missing my mum.

"If... if Christine doesn't preform... will I be able to see my mother a last time?" I asked. Silence. I looked up to him. He looked uncomterble. "Is that a no?"

"No... I have not thought of that option yet," He said slowly.

"You trust that Christine will preform?" I asked.

"She has to. I know that she will," He said. I looked back down to my shoes and started weaving again. But with every stitch I got angrier and angrier.

What was so special about Christine anyways? What did she have that I didn't? Well, she WAS prettier, with her gorgeous curly hair, and she DID have a better voice than I. It made me angry... and jealous. I hated to admit it, even if it was only to myself that I was jealous.

I bet SHE had never gotten kidnapped, just to hear someone altogether better than her sing. I bet SHE'D never given a second thought to how precious life was, when there is so little left. I bet SHE'D never have to weave a pair of shoes from straw. These stupid shoes!

In my sudden furry of anger I threw one of my shoes. Evidently, when I looked up, I realised it had landed right on top of Erik's head. My furrious mood vanished and suddenly I was laughing like a crazed woman.

He picked the shoe from on top of his head and began to chuckle too. "A shoe? Of all the things you could have tossed at me to harm me you throw me a shoe?" I laughed harder and even he cracked a huge smile.

"What else is there to throw at you? The water jug?" I joked. He grinned.

"Oh, yes. That may have caused some damage," He replied.

"If only I'd thought of that first," I laughed. After a minute or so, the laughing declined to chuckles.

"Oh, Erik," I sighed after my laugh attack. I heard him take a sharp intake of breath. I sat up and looked at him. He looked half surprised. "What?"

"Oh, it's just I have not been called by that name is so long," He said, his face twisting up a little for some odd reason. I wondered if he had even remembered his name.

"Oh, yes. You now are called Opera Ghost, or Phantom, are you not?" I asked. He nodded slowly.

"It just... surprised me," He said.

"That I could remember your name?"

"A... a bit."

"Do you even remember mine?

"Of course."

"Then what is it?" I asked. He frowned.

"Why do you care?"

"Just say my name."

"Miss... miss Giry."

"That's half of it."

"Meg," He finally said, like he could finally speak it. Why was it so hard for him to say? Because he couldn't remember it? Or because of something else?

"You do remember it!" I smiled. He smiled a little bit back. "You can call me by my name, don't fear it." He didn't respond.

"No need for such formalities," I said softly.

"Then you may call me the same, if you wish," He finally said.

"Okay, Erik," I said, and something inside me felt like it had been set free. Like not saying his name out loud has been clogging something up.

"Meg?" He asked softly.

"Yes?"

"Would you like your shoe back?"

* * *

_**Best Wishes, **_

_**Aktress.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**After a long and pointless conversation with my good friend Cheshire Phantom, I've discovered that one, she's going to be writing an awesome story! It's going to be a crossover between the Powerpuff Girls and Phantom, and I've got a good idea about how cool it'll be! But here's Chapter 9, early this morning!**_

**

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Chapter 9

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**

Frozen.

Where was I? What was going on? I was surrounded by nothing but ice-capped mountaintops, icicles, snow, and anything else below zero degrees you can find. I rubbed my arms for warmth with no avail.

I breathed a breath but it turned into ice right in front of my face. It surprised me a little bit and I wished deeply for a hot cup of tea. How long have I been in a frozen wasteland? Wind kicked in, and an icy blast of snow blew straight into my pale face.

I woke, startled. It was dark, besides a single torch of fire. But it was cold, I noticed. Not just cold, though.

It was freezing, as Erik had said it would be. I shivered on my mat, placing my dress once again over myself and curling up into my safety ball. I tried breathing warmth into my hands and face, and although it felt good for a second, it would evaporate in a moment's time.

I felt my teeth chatter together, and rubbed my hands together. Blinking, I wondered if could reach one of the torches, to warm myself. I sat up, and saw that the only lit one was right above Erik. I bit my lip and wondered if I could reach it. 

The chill that ran over my body confirmed that I should take my chances. So I stood up and tiptoed over to the torch.

Walking felt slightly odd, because of how long I'd been sitting. I bent to touch my toes and stretch a bit. My muscles cracked and ached, but felt good after stretching them out.

I still shivered, and the cold hard ground wasn't much help on my bare feet. I spotted the torch and walked up to it. When I beleived it might be within grasp, I reached out. Creeping up onto tiptoe, I reached... reeeeaaaacheeeed-

"Oof!" I suddenly lost my ballance and to my mortal embarssment tumbled over onto Erik. Imidiatly, I knew he had waken up.

My face blushing a deep crimson, I scrambled to get off the top of him and I wished with all my might that this would be a crazy dream, and not some insane reality. But despite my wishing and hoping, I realised it was real life.

I wanted to die, and he opened his eyes with a start. I had to do some explaining- and quickly!

"I-I, it's not what you think," Oh, heck! Who am I to say it's not what he thinks when I have no clue over what he really IS thinking! "I-I... was cold, see? And I s-saw the torch and I wanted to warm myself... and-" I stopped suddenly and sneezed.

Erik just looked startled and a little shaken up. He sat up. "Is there something wrong?" He asked. I shivered a little.

"It... it's just like you said. It's freezing. I was t-trying to be within reach of the torch, but I, uh, ungracefully found I couldn't and toppled over," I blushed. What a way to wake a man!

Could you imagine, in a normal home? A sleeping husband and the wife just crashes on top of him! "George, it's time to get to the market!" She'd call as she topples onto his back! What a way THAT would be!

He frowned. "Do you know not of any way to keep warm? Rub your hands? Curl up for warmth?" It was my turn to frown.

"Yes, I HAD tried that, thank you," I complained, realising how much of a whiny brat I sounded. He sighed.

"To have a dress that big, you would think that one might overheat in the dead of winter. Although, you look so fragile and pale that a single breeze could knock you down," He insulted me.

I frowned and walked back to my mat, picking it up and dragging it over to where Erik sat. He gave me a small, curious look.

"Is there any reason to why you've brought your bed over here?" He asked.

"Yes, in fact. Would you be so kind as to move over a bit? I'd like to sleep close to the light and warmth too," I said back. He narrowed his eyes.

"Why should I?" He snarled back. I frowned again.

"Because if Christine DOES preform, then you cannot return a lifeless, frozen corpse in hopes that they will accept it as me," I argued back. He stared at me coldly, but scooted over all the same. "Thank you."

I set my mat down and lie there. Our mats were maybe a foot apart, but I suddenly realised how close I was to him. Any leftover redness in my face from the fall came back a little and I turned so my back was facing him.

Once again, even with the small amount of warmth, both from the fire and from sharing some body heat, I was still too cold to fall asleep, so I thought a bit. About things... things I may have taken granted for.

Like a summer day, or the crisp feeling of snow. Like soft candlelight on a stage, even the rehersals I dreaded most of the time.

I wondered what everyone thought of this. Christine was probably shocked, my mum I honestly didn't know. I'm sure that Cecile was busy spinning webs of rumors about me, and I wanted to know what they all thought of this.

I shivered again, pulling my legs closer to my head. What I would give for a warm bath right now, or a blanket at least! I sat up, and looked over to those dreadful shoes, which were still in the far corner of the room. I was almost done with them, but they still weren't completely useable.

Maybe I should work on them now. But my thoughts were inturupted by a sudden sneeze and I shivered again. Then again, maybe I shouldn't. I sneezed a second time and yawned.

"You sure are a noisy prisoner," I heard Erik say. I turned around and saw he was facing me.

"W-well, just a bit. Just a bit o-of a chill, I believe," I replied, my shivers interupting each word. He looked off into the distence for a minute and I saw him shifting around a little. I watched silently as he took off his cape, and handed it to me.

I took it in disbelief. "But- but won't you be cold without this?" I asked him, marveling at how warm the cape was. He shook his head a little.

"No, I'm used to the cold temperatures. I will be fine," He said, lying back down. I held the soft cape up and felt it. It a bit worn, but it looked lovely in the flickering light. I tied it around myself and wrapped up into it. I held it up to my face and breathed in the soft scent of age. It didn't smell... but you could tell it was a bit old. I loved it.

I snuggled up and instantly, I began to warm up. "Thank you," I whsipered. He didn't respond, and I figured he was asleep already.

I was drifting in and out of sleep when I heard him singing softly. I hadn't heard the song before, so I closed my eyes and listened.

His voice had barely changed since I'd last heard him sing. It was breathtaking, and with each word I fell deeper and deeper under a spell. I breathed as softly as I could so I could hear his light voice.

I was in a trance. I never wanted to leave this place, I never wanted to leave him. I didn't know how he felt about me, and he most likely only thought I was a silly ballet rat, whom's paths had only barely crossed.

But I knew that I was falling more in love every day. It sounded so cheesy, like some kind of silly story Cecile might have made up, but it was a surprising reality.

I realised that of course he couldn't love me back... he was in love with Christine. Christine... my eyes started to tear up a little. That girl had caused me so much trauma over the year, and mostly this week. It wasn't exactly her fault... it was nearly everyone whom I knew.

But why had I befriended Christine anyways? Erik continued on with his song, and I felt goosebumps roll quickly down my arm. Was it because I knew in my heart she had some connection with Erik? I now knew he was giving her singing lessons, and that he would do anything to give his star pupil what he thought she deserved.

Even if it meant the murder of me.

I curled up into that state-of-the-art ball and wiped a tear from my face. Why don't they teach you useful things in school, such as how to get over someone who does not love you, or how to make them fall in love? Arithmatic is a snap compared to this.

Erik stopped singing and I wondered if he was only singing because he thought I was sleeping. Well, reason or not, soon I was away somewhere else, somewhere where I had no cares in the world, epecially not ones concerning love.

**_

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_**

**_*Sigh* Poor Meg, one can only imagine the pain she feels! But maybe soon something good will come her way! :) Chapter eleven will be posted up on Monday, two days from now! I shall now post every two days, so make sure to check back soon! Thanks once again to all my lovely reviewers! *Blows kiss*_**

**_Best Wishes,_**

**_Aktress._**


	10. Chapter 10

**_I'll keep it short and sweet, so for my lovely readers, here is chapter 10! _**  


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**Chapter 10**

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My life slowly passed. I wasn't sure how many days had gone by, but as if I was an animal, I could tell by my feeding schedule. Two meals a day, was it. Twleve small meals had been provided so far, so if I had guessed right, about six days had gone by. Just one day left until I knew my fate. Tomarrow.

It made my skin shiver with fear and excitement. I wondered if it was possible to be excited about possible death. Maybe I was just insane, which could have been just as well possible.

I sat there, weaving my shoes as normal. Erik was gone, said he had to take care of something. Though what he was doing was beyond me completely. Getting weapons to kill me or rope to hang me?

Lately, I'd been curious. Erik and I had been on good terms lately, well, not GREAT terms, but good terms as a prisoner and a captor could be. Maybe closer... but besides that point, what would happen if Christine DIDN'T preform? Not that I didn't have faith in her, but it was that undying question of 'What if?'

Sometimes, I tried guessing how painful it would be to die. Horrible? Or would he poison me? Through water or a drink? A noose was an obvious option too. It was a horrific pastime, especially in my position, but what else was I to do?

My heart started to beat quickly suddenly. I just needed a few more stitches and I would be done with these shoes! I grinned like crazy and began to weave the shoes quickly. With one last triumphant stitch in each shoe, I marveled at them.

If anyone had told me less than a week ago I'd be a prisoner of Erik's, weaving shoes out of straw, in this dress and without bathing in days, I'd say they were crazy. Maybe I was crazy now, obsessed with the shoes and fantasing about both Erik and my own death.

Really, one week without a decent whole meal can do this much damage to you.

I picked up the left shoe and slipped it onto my small foot. A perfect fit! Giddy with anticipation, I slipped on the right one and wiggled my toes around. It amazed me how delicate and at the same time sturdy these were. 

I leaped up from my mat and skipped over to an empty area where I could practice my dancing. I felt normal despite the dress. So I hiked it up, tucking it into a shorter skirt underneath. I took a deep breath, and tried to remember my ballet routines for Hannibal that we'd been rehearsing for.

It suddenly clicked into mind and I opened my eyes, doing some quick warm-ups. The shoes worked fantasticly! I laughed out loud and began my routine.

Time quickly passed as I pretended I was rehearsing with all the other girls. At the end, I bowed to the wall, an imaginary crowd clapping for me and the rest of my little Troupe. It was almost so realistic, I could hear the clapping already. That's when I realised there really WAS clapping, from behind me.

I turned with whiplike speed to see a half-smiling Erik, clapping. I blushed and curtsied a little bit. "I finished my shoes, and I wanted to try them out," I explained. He looked down to my questioningly. I looked down as well and gasped.

My shoes had become unwraveled all over the floor and were nearly ruined! All that was left was a small bit on my right foot. I moaned and knelt down to examine my handiwork all gone to waste.

"Oh, no!" I sighed. "I had worked so hard on this, too..." I grumbled to myself and picked up a few peices of the straw. It was no use trying to mend them, they couldn't have been any more mangled.

"I'm terribly sorry for your loss," Erik said, like he was attending a funeral. Despite my sour attitude, I smirked and looked up.

"You make it sound like I'm mourning over a dead family member, Erik," I teased. He smiled.

"Maybe we ARE at a funeral," He said, reaching into somewhere from his cape. "But do not worry, I've already invited the guests. And I believe they've finally arived." He took his hand out and I gasped.

"My ballet shoes!" I cried out, running up to him, completely forgetting about the straw shoes. I nearly tore them from his hands and caressed them, the soft scent of makeup and worn-leather making me feel years away.

"Wherever did you get them?" I said, laughing. He looked away, shrugging a bit. "You didn't go all the way up to my room to get them, did you?"

"Or I was seeing if Christine was practicing and I possibly saw these slippers lying about. You shouldn't leave them in the open, Meg," He said back with confidence. Even though he was a great actor, I could tell that he was lying. Christine would only be in my room or her dressing room. And Erik wouldn't venture as far as into the sight of anyone.

And when was the last time I'd left my shoes in Christine's dressing room? But I played along and just smiled. I sat down and slipped them up, tying them up and fitting them.

Oh, they felt wonderful! If I was happy about my weaved shoes, I was extactic to no end about these! I laughed and pirouted at least 4 times. Erik chuckled and clapped.

"Preform that dance once again, the one you did when I walked in," He said, leaning against the still-open doorway. I blushed a little at my newfound audience and scuffed my feet around a little as I got into position.

I began my dance again, from begining to end. When I was done, and bowed to Erik, he looked at me thoughtfully. "From which opera?" He asked.

"Hannibal, the one we were rehearsing a week ago," I said. He looked curiously at me again.

"What else to you know?" He asked.

"Well, a bit from Swan Lake, and some other ballets, but not many more operas. This has been one of my first." I explained. "I also know a small bit from the Nutcracker, it's a fairly new ballet."

"I may have heard of it," He said, thinking.

"It's only one dance, called the dance of the Sugar-Plum fairy," I said. "It's very tough though, and I'm still a little clumsy with it."

"Present it to me, nonetheless," He replied. I nodded my head and smiled nervously. I wondered if I would fail at it when attempting, but started to dance anyways.

After maybe a minute or so of trying to remember and dance at the same time, I tripped over part of my skirt that had gotten loose and started to plummet towards the ground. I shrieked a little, but I felt a pair of arms catch me.

I looked up straight into Erik's face and my cheeks grew a soft red. I laughed nervously. "Ha ha, still a little clumsy, huh?" I asked.

"I... I think you dance divinely," He said and I looked away, towards a wall.

"Thank you," I whispered. I didn't want to move from his arms, and felt so secure with his hands wrapped around me, in a half-embrace half-catch. I stood a little more by myself and looked into his eyes.

I leaned in toward him... and it seemed like he was leaning towards me too... I closed my eyes in anticipation.

But I felt Erik take his hands away jerkily, as if startled, and I opened my eyes again. I felt my face burn so much, I felt like I might burst into flames. I don't know what just happened, and I felt a little lightheaded. Maybe I was just tired.

I didn't really want to talk to Erik... after that awkward moment. So I lay down on my mat. It was weird... one moment I was in his arms... were we about to kiss? No, we couldn't have. He didn't love me. He loved Christine. What do I have? Messy hair and uncorrdinated dances, that's all.

My heart was still thudding in my chest, and I wondered what Erik was thinking, on his mat away from me. I tried closing my eyes in the sudden silence, and sleeping. But I couldn't. I looked over to Erik. He wasn't moving and looked sound asleep.

Maybe I'd try the dance again. So I stood up and started practicing again. As I danced, I longed even more to see my dear mum, all my ballet rat friends, and even Christine herself. I wondered how much they were fretting over me up there.

I might never see them again, I thought. Until a small detail became prominent all of the sudden to me.

The door.

It was still partially open. I looked over to Erik, still sound asleep on the mat. He looked so peaceful... like he wouldn't wake for a good deal of time. I bit my lip. Should I run for it? If I was captured by anyone else I would have booked it out of the place at the very second I noticed the door was still open.

But... but with Erik. Should I? Would it ruin any relationship (as friends or possibly more?) I'd built up over the week? Of course it would!

Then a sudden idea sprang into my head. What if I just went to see my dear friends and family one last time, if Christine failed? If I hurried, I could hug and talk to them, or write notes to them. Erik wouldn't notice if he was asleep.

So without a second thought, I had slipped out the door and was running down the dark hall as fast as I could to see my mum one last time.

**_

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_**

**_And this, children, is why you should always think twice when you believe you have an idea. I wonder what Madame Giry will do upon Meg's return?_**

**_(A Note: Did any of you see the 2009 Sherlock Holmes movie? After jokingly calling Cheshire Phantom Watson, and she calling my Sherlock, I've become curious about the original books. The movie was fantastic, and I'm attempting to read the first series of mysteries, but the words are big to a small thirteen year old like me! Oh, by the way, did you know there's going to be a sequal? When I become an obsessed fan of anything, I become an OBSESSED fan! It's coming out December 16'th, 2011! How will I wait nearly a year?)_**

**_Best Wishes,_**

**_Aktress._**


	11. Chapter 11

**_I was surprised after my last chapter for a few reasons. 1) I had an anonymous reviewer post the same comment three times, and corrected me on something. So thank you, whoever you were! Looks like I'll have to check my facts next time, sorry about the incorrect time periods! I'll make sure next time! :)_**

**_2) I didn't hear from any of my normal reviewers! Where'd you guys go? I miss you! ;)_**

**_But here's chapter 11, hopefully I got this one right!_**

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**Chapter 11**

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My heart pounded and I breathed heavily as I ran down the hall. How long had I been running? A minute at least, barely more, maybe. I wondered when the end of the hall w-

"Oof!" I ran straight into the door at the end of the hall. "Ow," I rubbed my head and it pulsed a little, and a bump was sure to form soon. I sighed and opened the door. It was surprisingly light, and I peeked from behind the curtain at the lair.

Barely anything looked out of place, and there was no one in sight. So I gently closed the door and whipped the curtain behind me. I walked slowly out and looked around. Some things were fumbled about, but not too dramatic. I looked around to the lake, where I saw the boat tied up.

Peering once more back at the curtain, I sighed. Was this the right thing to do? I bit my lip and ran to the boat before I could turn back again. I climbed in and grabbed the oar. Paddeling as quickly as possible, I soon reached the winding stone staircase.

I leaped out of the boat and raced up the staircase. I leaped up each step with joy, and raced down the hall to where I knew Christine's mirror was. Christine might not have been there, she might have been practicing, but just as well, I couldn't wait to see another human being!

I reached the mirror and realised it was still broken. I wondered what Christine thought of it. What if she was still sick, and hadn't even seen it yet? That thought made my skin chill and I stepped through the mirror. I didn't see anything much different in there and I wondered if the world had just been frozen this whole week without me.

There was some glass surrounding the bottom. I gently skipped over it and looked around the room, to see if there was any notes or clues to see where Christine was at or what was going on.

Nothing. I looked to the door and walked over to it. I opened it and peeked out. There was no one around, and I ran on my tiptoes down the hall to my small room. I couldn't wait to see my mum!

I reached my room, and looked at my door. "Home," I whispered. I had missed it so much!

I walked into my room. "Mum?" I called inside. No answer. "Mum?" I ran around my home, looking for anyone. Where was she? "MUM!" Maybe she was at practice for the ballet. Should I risk going to the dressing rooms?

But before I could decide a thing, the door opened and someone entered the room. I turned my head and my eyes met with my Mum's. Her eyes widend and she covered her mouth with her hands.

"M-M-Meg?" She said like she was seeing a ghost. I smiled and laughed little.

"Oh, Mum!" I laughed and caught her in a huge hug. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again!" I caught her by surprise, but she hugged me tightly back.

"Meg! Little Meg!" She said between sobs. "Ve all thought... how did you... oh Meg!" I felt her heaving sobs on my shoulder.

"It's okay Mum," I consoled her as my eyes started to water too. "I'm so happy to see you, Mum!"

She pulled away and looked at me teary eyed. "Meg, how did you escape?" She asked me. I smiled at her and sighed.

"It's a long story, and I have to return soon. But I will be able to see you all once again when Christine preforms again," I smiled. My mum looked at me in horror.

"Meg, you can not go back. You'll never see the light of day again, child!" She said. I frowned.

"But when Christine preforms tonight, he said I may come back!" I argued. My mum shook her head.

"Ma chère, Christine vill not be preforming," Her eyes lost some kind of sparkle and my heart stopped beating for a second.

"W-what?" I sputtered. "But Christine HAS to preform!" She shook her head again.

"Once Christine heard of vhat happened, she vent missing, as vell as a Viscount by the name of Monsieur de Chagny. We think that maybe their disaperances are related, but no one had told the Phantom. Ve all thought you were already dead!" My mother had a cold look on her face. "You cannot go back, and ve must go from here."

My mum grabbed my hand and spoke softly to my. "Quickly, Meg. Ve must leave. Grab a bag, and pack your dresses. Anything unessential ve shall leave here." I blinked, trying to comprehend her sentences.

"W-what?" I said again. My mum sighed.

"Is that all you can do, Meg? Stand and sputter? Quickly!" She was pushing me down the hallway towards my room. "And change out of that awful gown! Brush your hair out, as vell," She went on down the list, but I put my hands on both sides of the hallway so I couldn't be pushed any more.

"No!" I said, stunning myself. My mum shut her mouth.

"Vhat did you just say?" My mum said quietly. I took a breath.

"No, mum. I-I can't leave. I can't leave him," I whispered. My mum looked at me, completely flabbergasted.

"Vhat are you talking about? One veek vithout food or a bath has made you loose your head!" She cried out. "Heaven help this crazed child!" I frowned.

"No, mum. I won't leave! Do you know how lonely he's been down there without me?" I said back. My mum looked at me with pursed lips and furious eyes.

"Vhat do you mean vithout you?" Curses! I bit my lip.

"Yes, without me," I stood my ground. "Do you know how lonely Erik is down there? In my one week of company to him, I've made him laugh numerous times, and I know that if I were to leave, he would just die of loneliness!"

"How to you know his name?" She demanded. I took a sharp into of breath.

"That doesn't matter," I said back.

"If it doesn't mater, then you vouldn't mind leaving this cursed place," She said through gritted teeth.

"Mum, why must we leave? It's not like he'll kill me!" I argued. My mum shook her head slowly.

"Meg Giry, I know things you may never know about him. He would not hesitate to slit your throat," She stated.

"Maybe he's changed! Who's to say that he won't murder me? He could write all the new operas, by God's name! What if he even PREFORMED? You've never heard him sing or play his organ, have you?" I nearly screamed.

"Oh, so being a prisoner of his makes you suddenly an expert on him? You base him just off of how he can sing or play an instrument?" She asked back.

"No, but even if I did! It's better than judging someone just by how they look!"

"I never said I vas. Did you see the murder? He vould do the same to you if you ever saw him again. And vhy vould you even care about your captor?" She wasn't breaking so much as a sweat. I pursed my lips.

"Why should I not care, mum? He's a human being too!"

"They called him the Devil's Child, and they vere right!" She called out. I couldn't contain myself any longer. "He is nothing more than-"

"I love him!" I yelled over my mum. There was a few beats of silence.

"V-vhat did you say?" My mum hissed.

"I... I said... I said that I loved him. With all my heart," I said, my voice slightly wavering.

My mum looked up at me, as angry as I'd ever seen her. "What demon has posessed you, child? No one could love a monster like he." I closed my eyes and my breathing wavered.

"No one except I do," I said and opened my eyes. "Mum, if your mother disaproved of you and father, what would you do?"

"I vould 'ave respected my mother's vishes," She said coldly.

"That's what makes you and I so different," I stared at her. "I'm going back to Erik, and you can't stop me. I don't know wether or not I'll come back, but I at least have to let him know how I feel about him." My mum frowned disaprovingly.

"He vill not be pleased. Ve all know he has his eyes set on that Daae girl, and deep down you know it too. He vill never, EVER love you, and vhat a blessing he never vill," She said with anger. I bit my lip and pushed my mum so I could walk past.

I walked to the door without acnoladging her. "Vhere do you think you're going?" I turned around to face her.

"I'm going back. I'm not sure what will happen, but mum? I hope that you pray for me, even if you hate my very guts the rest of your life. Goodbye, mum. I love you," I said, and went through the door, closing it softly behind me.

Right after the door closed, I began crying. "What have I done?" I whispered to myself. My mum probably would resent my very life, regret she had even brought me into this world. I blubbered like an idiot for a minute, until I felt someone grasp my arm.

I looked up, teary eyed and saw one of the only people that I didn't want to see right now. "Erik," I said softly. But he didn't look like he was going to console me, he looked furious.

"I thought you would be different from the rest, but now I see that you would flee in fear as well," He said darkly. I began crying again.

"Erik... I wanted to-" I began, but he grabbed me, thrust me onto his shoulders and his grip on me was so hard that I could have never escaped. Even if I'd wanted to.

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**_This doesn't look good... but on a completely different note, happy Phantom of the Opera day! *Throws mini party* Exactly 23 years ago today (January 26th, 1988) Phantom of the Opera opened on Broadway for the first time ever! It's been on ever since, making it the longest running show on Broadway EVER! XD So happy birthday not exactly to our favorite characters, but to all the fantastic music! _**

_**Best Wishes, **_

_**Aktress.**_


	12. Chapter 12

**_*Sigh* I can't believe I'm already almost done with this story! I love it so much! Next update on Sunday, as always! Thanks to my reviewers, all that lovely junk that you just hate reading, so without further ado, here is Chapter 12._**

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**Chapter 12

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**

I just hung there, not even trying to escape or even move. For the second time that week, Erik was dragging me down to his lairs. Only this time, I just hung there, limp and crying my heart out.

I didn't know or care how long it took to get back to his underground home, but soon I felt him throw me to the ground. I hit the stone floor- hard. I cried out in pain and reached for my shoulder.

"WHY DID YOU LEAVE?" I roared.

I just lay there, sobbing.

"WHY?"

Why HAD I gone? What was I thinking? Of COURSE he'd catch me! I was so foolish, my mum was right to hate me.

"E-Erik..." I said softly.

"DO NOT CALL ME BY THAT CURSED NAME!" He raged. My tears flowed openly. He sighed.

"Why, Meg?" He asked me. I looked up for the first time, my eyes puffy and red. His eyes a mix of anger and some kind of disapointment.

"I-I... my mum. I wanted to see her... one last time..." I tried explaining.

"You were so sure that Christine will preform, could you have not waited one or two more days?" He asked.

I thought. "Yes, I suppose I could've, but-"

"I shouldn't have trusted you, should have made sure the door was closed," He sighed and he clentched his fists.

"Why did you even bother to bring me back?" I asked him.

"My bet with the Opera is still on, if Christine doesn't preform tomarrow..." He trailed off. A sharp pang poked in my stomach at the thought of Christine. I knew that she would never sing for him again...

"Then why else would you leave?" He asked me. I blinked.

"Why not? I am a prisoner, and you are the captor. Do I not have every right to want to leave?" I asked, although I didn't think of it like that. He looked like he didn't either.

"I... I thought that you were happy here... for the most part." He said. I widened my eyes.

"B-but I am happy here," I said quietly. "Mostly, this week has not been complete torture. I wasn't running away." He looked disbelieving.

"I promise," I whispered. Why did no one trust me anymore? He turned away and I realised we weren't in our little cell of a room, but in his normal lair. He was walking over to his organ. I sat up on my rump and watched on as he sat angrily down at the organ.

He began playing a piece that I thought that I recognised. I stood up and walked slowly over to the organ. He sounded focused on the piece, but his movements were sharp and looked like he was somewhere else. "Is... is it..." I began to ask.

"Hannibal. The Overture," He said and stopped playing for a moment, without looking at me. Then he resumed playing.

"I- I'm sorry," I apologized. He stopped.

"What?" He asked. I cleared my throat

"I'm sorry. For... for leaving. I know that I shouldn't have, and... and that soon I will see them again. Or I will die. Either way, it was foolish of me to-" I stumbled on and Erik turned to face me. I saw him crack a small smile.

"Meg, you sound like you're talking to your mother," he smiled. "Don't sound so formal." I smiled back and giggled.

"Okay, then what should I say?" I replied.

"Just a simple 'I'm sorry' would work," He said and resumed playing.

"Okay, then I'm sorry," I said, listening to the soft music. I swayed to the song a bit. He turned up to face me.

"Would you enchant me once again with your dance?" He asked. I blushed a bit.

"Of course, Monsieur," I curtsied and stepped out into an open space. He started from the begining and I danced my way through the song and through hours on end, wishing I'd never have to stop dancing.

It must have been midnight, and we were still in the lair. There was a small bed furnished beautifully that he had given me for that night... my last night. I had wondered what he would think when he learned that Christine was gone?

Although it was so comfy... I couldn't sleep. It was my last night with him. What would happen in the morning was completely beyond me. I have never woken up again if I fell asleep. I'd be dead, and Erik would never know how I felt about him.

Before I could run my idea by a second time within my head, I stood up, tying my ballet shoes up and tiptoeing to where Erik was. His small bed was a bit of a walk from mine, and I had a few moments to slow my heart.

He was asleep, in a bed of his own. I looked down upon him. He looked so peaceful and helpless... He must have been asleep, so I was sure he couldn't hear me. "Erik..." I whispered softly. "If only you knew."

He didn't stir, so I continued on. "Everyone... everyone else says you're a monster. I don't know anyone else who knows your real name... besides my mum, of course," I chuckled a little.

I sat down silently and looked closer at him. "I... I wish you would pick me instead of Christine," I whispered. "I wish you could see how much I love you," I said longingly.

"It- I know it's rediculous, a ballet rat who can barely sing... compared to you, YOU! You're a musical genius, your song is the sweetest I've ever heard," I sighed.

"Erik, I miss you so much... I remember when when I was just a kid?" I laughed a little at the memory. "I had invited you to come to the masquerade ball, and you wouldn't come, because you were too scared that everyone would have to take off their masks... so we had a party down here. It's a silly memory, but it's one of my favorites.

"I'm just talking more to myself, I believe, than really talking to you," I laughed quietly. "Maybe I truly have gone insane. But I can't bear to leave this world until I say out loud that I love you," I smiled down at Erik, who obviously could not hear my confessions.

"Call me a ninny for not telling you straight to your face, but when I die tommarow, I want these walls and everything surrounding me to know how much I really loved this week. The conditions may have been less than satisfying, but I spent my whole week with you, and that's all I care for.

"I... I know that your heart belongs to Christine, so I when I am gone, at least tell the whole opera house that I will dreadfully miss them. Write a note to them... and let my mum know that I love her, even though she may not love me anymore...

"I should probably get to sleep..." I sighed, aware that none of my wishes would be fulfilled because Erik didn't hear any of them. "If this is the last time I will ever see you, I love you."

"Goodnight, Erik," I whispered to the sleeping body. I exited the place where he slept and began to walk back over to my own bed. I lay back down, a little drowsy now that the words were off of my mind.

I fell asleep, wishing that somehow I could tell him straight to his face how I felt. I'm such a coward. But maybe now his whole house would know, and someday, they would show Erik how much I did love him.

I woke to something considerably different and screamed the moment my eyelids fluttered open. Right above my laying body was...

A knife.

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**_I'll keep it short and sweet today, so no notes for now! :) (Sorry this chapter was so Fopping short!)_**

_**Best Wishes, **_

_**Aktress.**_


	13. Chapter 13

**_In contrast with my extremely short chapter last time, this one is rather long. But it is full of surprises, so look out! :)_**

**

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Chapter 13**

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So, this was how I was going to die. A punjab lasso, I might have expected. But from Erik, I would have not expected a blade. So I lie there, my screams absorbing into silence, as my lungs were in shock and I couldn't make a noise.

But a knife? It was so unexpected that I was still surprised, even though the knife was above me at that very moment. I looked closely, focusing my sight on Erik, not on the knife. But wait... my blood ran cold.

It wasn't Erik.

Unless somehow Erik had miraculously healed his deformity overnight, grown a small shadow of a beard, and eyes had grown increasingly sharp and careless. I stopped screaming, not because I wasn't scared, but because I was curious to know who it was, and what on earth was happening.

With a rough voice sounding vaugly like cut glass and stones, the man said, "Shut your mouth, miss, unless you'd like to die." I kept my mouth closed and the knife was slowly drawn back from above my heart.

"Good, now hand over all of your valueables, pretty lady," He said, holding out an expecting hand. I blinked, not knowing what to say. Would uttering a word lead to the threat of a knife once again?

I reasoned, and speaking overuled staying silent like some school-girl who had been caught doing something wrong. "I-I do not have any valueables. The most thing of value I own here is my ballet slippers and I highly doubt you'd like those." My real question I'd like to ask is how a thief could have gotten into the catacombs. Getting into the opera house should have been tough enough, but getting down here?

He squinted at me. "Then explain to me the big piano, the fancy bed, and the expensive looking clothing?"

"I... I guess I cannot. Have you not heard of the Phantom? The man who lives underneath the opera house, down here?" I said quickly, wondering if I could scare him off.

"What fibs! Now pretty miss, if you wouldn't mind, kindly hand over the blankets and pillows. One could get a fair price for those," He said, his hand still stretched out. After a moment of contenplating what I should do, I handed the unidentified man the pillows and the blanket, wondering how he would carry them out.

"He'll be here soon," I said quietly. He looked ferociously at me.

"Listen, little lady, I'm a fair man, and I'll spare your life as long as you keep your trap shut," He said. I closed my mouth again, wondering if I should try running. How on earth could he deem himself a fair and just man, bursting into the small place and taking everything that did not rightly belong to him? This whole week has just been in and out of danger... what if this was all just some crazy dream?

But unfortunatly, it was not. It was indeed cold and true reality. I wondered where Erik was. Was he still asleep, or was he somewhere hiding from the robber? Leaving me to fend for myself? Maybe I could fend this man off by myself... who am I fooling? I'm a ballet rat, for goodness sake!

Had I been trying to fool myself all week? Maybe it would just be for the best for this man to kill me right here and now. Christine didn't care enough to even atempt saving my life. My mum loathes me because I'm in love with Erik. And to Erik I was most likely as precious as the dirt on his boots. Should I just ask this robber to plunge the knife into me right here and now? Surely it would hurt less than when Erik finds out that Christine is gone. His heart would be broken, and would take out his rage on me. He would hang me for sure, and first torture me. There was no doubt he would.

The thief glanced up at me and spotted something resting just above my chest. I looked down, and saw a necklace. Where had this come from? Had I grabbed it in my visit up to my mother? No, I don't remember any thing like grabbing a necklace... I must have been wearing this all week, and just not noticed.

"Yes, now hand that over, miss," He said, his hand held out once again. My own hand rushed up to my neck. I felt the lovely necklace, slowly remembering it being part of my costume.

"I...I cannot," I said. I don't know why I said it, but I was strangely attached to the thing. It gave me a sence of... hope. Like a gift, something irriplaceable. My only memory of life above ground, really. He frowned.

"I will have to rip it from your very neck if you do not kindly hand it over," He said impatiantly. My heart started to beat quickly. Give him the necklace, Meg, said something inside of me. For your own safety! Do it now! But I ignored the voice. I couldn't give him this necklace.

"N-n-no! I refuse to!" I said, standing up and out of the bed. The strange man sighed, drawing the knife once again from his belt. My heart beat faster.

"Little lady, give the necklace to me," He comanded, stepping closer to me and sticking his hand out, trying to grab towards my neck.

"I'll scream for help!" I threatend. He chuckled.

"And who would hear you? Listen, do you even hear a hint of life in here beside mine and yours?" He smiled and held the knife up to around my neck, tracing the shape of my cheekbone with the dull end.

"I could kill you right here and now, no would would notice. What is a beauty like yours doing down here, anyways?" He asked. I tried to get away from him, now genuinly afraid. Where was a murderer when you needed one?

He grabbed the necklace and tried to pull it from my neck in one swift motion, but he couldn't pull it from me and pulled my whole body forward instead. My head hit hard upon his and I pulled myself back, rubbing my poor head.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed and looked down. But the man didn't get back up. My blood ran cold. Oh, God, I hadn't killed him, had I? Forgeting my own pain, I rushed to the thief to see if I had accidentally made him impale himself or something of as horrible origins. With his knife, if when we had butted heads, had gone straight into his body, then he would be bleeding, and I would have to doctor him. The very thought made my stomach churn.

But luckily for me, there was nothing so gruesome to report. I sighed with relief. The man was knocked out cold, though. I wondered how much time there was until he would wake. I wondered how he had gotten inside the place as well, he had not known of the Phantom, surely he had never been to the opera house before, or was from this part of France.

I stepped over the passed out body, hand still up on my throbbing head. There was an asortmant of treasures by the side of my bed, from the thief, I was sure. I bent down and looked through what this man had stolen.

"Get away from my things!" Suddenly came the man's voice. I looked up and saw that the man had shakily risen to his feet, one hand on his head and the other on his knife. "I'll stab you if you don't step away!"Taking the hint, I rose quickly back into the other corner of the curtained off area. It was foolish of me to stay in the area of the bed, but I wasn't thinking right at the moment. He walked over, stumbling a bit like he was drunk.

"I'll get that necklace," He snarled, and stumbled up to me, holding the knife still up. My eyes widened and I nearly shrieked. Suddenly, the man flew up towards me. I dodged, and he hit the wall with a slap, and fell onto the bed. There was a small sharp pinch on my left leg, but I didn't think a thing of it. Surely he couldn't have flown by himself like that. I looked up and to my slight surprise there stood Erik. Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, I mean it WAS his lair, after all.

He walked up to me. "Meg, are you hurt?" He asked, grabbing my arm. I felt a tingle go down my spine as his skin embraced mine.

"N-no. I'm fine..." I said. "But that thief... I do not know how he got in. He may not be as fine as I am."

"Are you sure that he did not harm you?" He asked. I shifted my weight and there was a sudden pain in my left leg again, but more intense this time.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, looking down and I saw the knife just barely stuck into my calf. I winced and stumbled to sit on the bed.

"Good God..." Erik mumbled as I sat and I looked at my leg. I sucked in my breath a bit. The good news was that it wasn't too bad, just maybe a pinky-nail's distence in my leg. I touched the blade but cried out a bit. It hurt badly.

Erik walked over to me. "Here," He said, getting down on a knee and gently doing something to my leg that I didn't see. But with just a small pinch, he had the knife out of my leg. He then ripped off a small bit from my dress with the knife, turning it into a makeshift bandage. 

I sat there for a moment, in silence. Why was he suddenly being so kind? He stood back up and held out his hand. I stared at it. Just a week ago, he had held out his hand to me. I had trusted him, and look where it had brought me. Had I dare trust him again?

I put my hand in his, but instead of the squeeze I felt last time, he gently stood me up. I looked up to him. What was he doing? Not a week ago, he wouldn't dare even say my name. Maybe he really had changed this week. Was my mum wrong? But what if she was right. It was likely that she was, anyways. It would be so much more painless just to die right now, from the knife.

I was suddenly jerked into an awkward hug. I would have laughed if my heart was still not beating so quickly from my experience with the thief. "Meg, I promise that such a threat as this will happen again."

Raising an eyebrow that he didn't see, I was puzzled. A threat? "You mean the thief? I could have easily fended him off..." I said like it was nothing.

"But what if he had'nt been so sparing with your life? I blame myself, for not taking better precautions. How the man had come in is still a mystery to me. But I swear that you'll be safe from now on," He said. The words that came out of his mouth seemed too good to be true.

"Really, it was nothing, I'm fine!" I said, my face growing a bit red.

"You were so close to not being fine though, Meg. If you had been seriously hurt... you could have died!" He said and stopped the hug. But he still held onto my hands.

"Erik, today's the deadline," I said. "Would it not just be better if he would have killed me?"

"I hoped you would not bring that topic up," He said, still holding onto my hands.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The topic of... her," He acted as though Christine's name was poison or something that could not be spoken of. "You may know that... she's gone. She left nearly a week ago." I widened my eyes.

"You know of that? For how long have you known?" I asked, flabbergasted. He sighed, putting the smallest amount of preasure upon my hands.

"I have known for maybe three days or so now," He said.

"Three days? But... but why did you bring me back here? Your claim was that 'she' would preform, and I could leave," I said, my heart fluttering. He cracked a small smile and put one of his hands on my shoulder.

"Meg, after I heard you last night talking last night, weather you knew I was concious or not, I couldn't help remember us... we had been so close. And though 'her' beauty and talent had cast me under, the enchantress has broken her spell," He said.

My heart was thumping at a million miles per hour. "Erik, you heard that?" I asked weakly, laughing lightly. He looked back at me, a hint of a smile on his serious looking face.

"Meg, you are the only person who has made me smile so much in one week, and now I know for sure that it's you," He said, before suddenly the unexpected became a crazy reality all of the sudden.

So in an small room with a knocked out thief, stolen trinkets, a girl who hasn't bathed in over a week, and the love of my childhood, I was suddenly swept up into my very first kiss.

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**_I'm so evil, leaving you with two cliffhangers in a row, right? ;)_**

**_Best wishes, _**

**_Aktress._**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Without further ado, I would like to post the final installment of this story! Credits will come after this chapter! :) **_

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**Chapter 14**

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First kiss.

The words swept through my mind over and over again repeatedly as I was caught here, in between reality and fantasy. Was this really happening? All these years of waiting for some kind of spark, and here I was, kissing him. 

His lips were cool and oddly soft. I wouldn't have figured that a man who had spent nearly his whole life down here would have soft lips. His mask rubbed up against my face, but at the moment, I didn't care.

I pulled myself towards him, throwing my arms up and around his shoulders. Oh, God, this was really happening! Never in all my wildest fantasies could I have dreamed something like this up.

I could really get used to this 'kissing'. I pulled apart from him and I stared at him for a second, breathing heavily. My heart was still pounding at full throttle. "You... you just..." I stumbled up on my words, not knowing what to say. He stared back at me too, as if half surprised at what had just happened too.

"I-I'm sorry, Meg," He said. "I should not have done such a disrespectful thing to you." He let go of me and began to step backwards. No, I thought.

"No," I said, grabbing his arm and walking up to him. "Erik, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for that." I got onto my tip toes and reached up to kiss him again. Oh, God. This whole week may just have been the best week of my life.

He kissed me back, but not as gently. It was... passionate. That is the only word I could use to describe it. My world was spinning so fast, I felt as though the Earth itself could reverse time and suddenly begin to rotate in a completely new direction.

After we pulled away for the second time, he looked up at me. "Did you really mean everything you said last night? It seems surreal that anyone could love a face like this," He said, looking away. I thought his bashfulness was sweet, and I answered him honestly.

"How many years have I known you, Erik? Six years now? If I had ever been scared of you, would I have run away and left you be? I look beyond this haunted face. Inside, I know that your heart makes up for any deformity you could ever have," I said back to him. "All you have is a little patch of roughness. Nothing more. In fact, removing your mask would make kissing you easier." I blushed. He looked once again to me.

"I had always thought that you only came down here out of pity for me. I thought when... when 'she' came, that she wouldn't know my story. That she could learn to love my voice, and maybe someday learn to love my appearance as well..." He said.

"'She' did fall in love with your voice, she would tell of the rats that you were an angel," I smiled. "Maybe she was right at one thing, after all." There was a sudden moan from the corner. We both looked over, and the man still looked half-dead.

"What do we do about him?" I whispered, in case the man was awake now.

"I could easily kill him, then throw him into the sew-"

"ERIK!"

"What? It would be the easiest way to deal with him!" 

"Maybe so, but isn't killing this man a little rash? Surely he doesn't deserve to die just for breaking into a few homes!"

"He tried to kill you," Erik reminded me.

"Yes, but here I am, alive and well. If you must, then do the dark deed. But it would rest better on my conscience if we found another way to get him out," I reasoned.

"It would considerably take more time then I'd like, but will find a way to dispose of the fool without killing him," He sighed, holding me in his arms. I never wanted him to let go, but he soon let go of my hands and left me to stand on my own once again.

He walked over to the man and picked him up by one foot, practically dragging the man across the floor. He held the foot as if it was a soiled undergarment. I had to cover my mouth with my hand as though not to laugh and awaken the man. He gave me an overexagerated look of disgust and I grinned.

Erik dragged the man awkwardly out of the room, and I followed after him, making sure the man didn't wake. He dragged the man across the lair for a minute or so with me prancing behind. There was a skip in my step as my heart fluttered. I couldn't believe that Erik loved me back... or at the very least had kissed me. My lips still tingled from when we had kissed.

We arrived soon to a large grate. I looked and saw that it was a large sewer drain. I bet that if we could, we might be able to squeeze the man through. It would be awfully funny, seeing this man squished through metal bars. "Are we to shove this man up?" I asked, amused.

"I had proposed that killing him would be very much more easy," He said. "But little Meg cannot be responsible for death, I see?"

"Yes, it would greatly disturb me and haunt for the rest of my life. I shall help you," I said, walking up and helped him shove the man up the huge drain. Miraculously, it looked as though it was in the early hours outside, and I could tell no one would see us or the man. Our luck was great, and the man did not make any sign of waking.

Finally, we had successfully shoved the man from Erik's lair. I looked at Erik, smiling. "If a week ago, you had told me I would have been shoving a man up a sewer drain and be embraced in the arms of my childhood love, I would have deemed you crazy," I laughed. He smiled.

"Maybe you are crazy, maybe we both are," He answered. I grinned back at him and intertwined my hand in his.

"There is no one whom I'd rather slowly slip into madness with, then," I laughed back. He leaned in, for a kiss, I guessed. I leaned in too, but instead of the tender softness of his mouth, my lips met with cold unfeeling leather. I opened my eyes in surprise, then began laughing, and wiped my mouth.

"Apparently this man has something against the two of us," I giggled as Erik peeked over the foot of the man we'd shoved out. His leg must have come loose, and slipped back down into the sewer.

Erik grabbed the foot and shoved it back out. The brown leather squeaked against the metal of the sewer, but disappeared from sight once again. I looked at the shoe and smiled, thinking. "Maybe we should have kept the shoe," I said with a giggle. He looked back at me, confused.

"Kept the shoe?" He asked with a hint of humor in his voice. I grinned.

"We could have kept a whole family of shoes to come to the funeral of my old pair of ratty old shoes," I explained. He smiled, remembering the shoe fiasco.

"They were a good pair of shoes, they will be dreadfully missed," He said solemnly. I started to laugh. If it had not been that no one would accept him as I could, he would have been a fantastic actor for the Opera. He could sing, obviously. 

He intertwined his hand in mine once again. "Meg, I don't know what to do," He sighed.

"Whatever is wrong?" I asked, stopping my laughing.

"Of letting you go," He said.

My eyes grew big in surprise. "What?"

"You cannot stay down here forever, your mother would miss you dreadfully, as well as everyone else, I assume. And you do not belong down here anyways. I'm just robbing you of your life, being selfish," He said.

"What crazy thoughts have entered your mind?" I cried out. "I'm as good as dead to my mum, and everyone else think that I'm being hung at this very moment! I'd like to vouch for the fact that I'd do anything to stay down here, be within your presence the rest of my short-lived life. My own life is not even worth living without you!"

"Meg, your life is the most precious, and I'm sure that somehow you have been cursed, put under some spell to love me. No one in their right might could love a monster like this," He said. I frowned.

"I wish you would not be so hard on yourself! For God's sake, of course I love you! Is that so hard to understand? Was the loss of Christine so harsh on you? Maybe no one else would walk the street of London with you masked. But to me, I would roam the whole world with you, unmasked! No face can deceive the fact that you are kind, and gentle inside," I tried reasoning. 

He was silent, so I popped up to him and kiss him once again. Once we broke apart, I said, "I love you, and nothing you can ever say will change that. Can you not just accept that?" I asked with a small laugh.

He smirked a little bit. "I would have never imagined that anyone could ever love a beast."

"Erik, I am going to slap you across your face and shove you out the sewer like that man if you keep talking about yourself like that!" I threatened with a frown. But Erik started to laugh.

"Okay, I will stop, but only if you will promise to me that you love me," He said, pulling me close. I sighed and let him hold me in his arms.

"I promise," I said, closing my eyes.

"Don't leave me, Meg," He whispered.

"The thought will never even briefly cross my mind."

"I love you, Meg."

"I love you, too."

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**_OMG THE END! XD_**

**_I can't believe I finished this story! It may be the first story I've ever ended and was satisfied with! It has been 14 chapters, 39 days, and 31 reviews (so far!)_**

**_I'd like to thank all my reviewers individually now!_**

**_UglyStepsister: My first reviewer! Thanks for all your kind words! *Blows kiss*_**

**_Horses of Shadow and Night: (Phew, that's a heck of a name you've got!) You've stuck with me the whole time! Wow, THAT'S called dedication! LOL, thanks for everything! *Hugs*_**

**_Little Luxa: Can I say how much I love your name? It's so pretty! Anyways, thanks for all the reviews! *Giant Glomp!*_**

**_FantasticMisticalWonder: Once again with the awesome name! One of my most frequent reviewers! So Thanks an extra-special bunch! *Giant Glomp again!*_**

**_Lauren: It's always wonderful to know that someone is 'In Flippin Love' with my story! Your reviews made me laugh! So thank you!_**

**_Daae-Phantom-Love: Only one review from you, but thanks for it, and reading!_**

**_Annoymous: I really had my facts screwed, as I've now looked up. Thanks for pointing that out, and thanks for reading!_**

**_Emilx311: The only one to realise that it might not have been Erik with the knife! You win the observation award! Thanks for reading!_**

**_None Sorry: Haha, nice name! Your review was thoughtful, and for that, I wish I could thank you in a message! But oh well, by a ninja for now! :)_**

**_Nannyandpotocrazy: Only head from you once, but isn't Erik and Meg fluff always good? *Drowning in fluffy goodness* Thanks for the review!_**

**_Annocat: Although I only heard from you once, it's always good to keep people squealing! Haha!_**

**_Oh, and Cheshire Phantom: Yes, you never reviewed, but I know you sat in front of your computer reading this til' your eyes burned out. So thanks for the devotion, buddy! *HUGE GLOMPS* And the Buttons story? I am laughing my butt off! XD_**

* * *

**_Once again, huge thanks to EVERYONE who made this one of my best stories! So now, thank you, and for now goodbye!_**

**_(BTW, if you loved this story, PLEASE subscribe to me so you can be on the lookout for new stories! Thanks to everyone!)_**

**_So I guess it's time to say_**

**_THE END! :)_**


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